


Societal Influence: Rodimus

by TrashMachine



Series: SIAU [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Human AU, Multi, optimus isnt a good dad, rod is suicidal im js, the relationship isnt that healthy? it will be a few volumes later, yeah i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-01 02:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12695139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashMachine/pseuds/TrashMachine
Summary: Rodimus Prime is trying. He really is, so why doesn't anyone believe him?Because his family is full of expectations, with his father the youngest Prime, his mother the Ice Queen of the Quintesson Boarder, and his uncle the current Magnus of Cybertron. And here he is, slightly below average grades, distant friends, and a cousin that shows him up in everything. He wants out. Out of this life, out of his house, somewhere else. Anywhere else.He just hopes someone offers him an out before he has to take a different one.(1/7 in this series.)





	1. Day 14, 2nd month Autumn, 2007

It was dark outside of the truck.

Whether it was due to the sun having not risen yet, Rodimus couldn’t tell. The gunmetal grey of clouds held the sky hostage, concealing any indication of time or space as he stared out the window, watching the houses of Tarigan Heights pass by like a flip book of decay in reverse. The closer to Iacon they got, the less the houses crumbled. Illuminated by the dwindling light of lamp posts.

He hated mornings. Something about them inherently held despair, and Rodimus would experience it every day he had to get up. which was tragic, given that Iacon Academy demanded his attendance starting from seven in the morning and dragged on until half four in the afternoon. Considering he usually forgot to bring lunch, or money for lunch, it made surviving the days worse. Usually having to plead with his cousin or his only friend to get him something to eat made him feel sick to even think about.

Rodimus usually took the shuttle train to Iacon Academy. It was faster. More efficient. Allowed him to stay in bed longer, in the dark of his room. In the cold, with his door locked tight and window wide open. He’d stare at the seconds ticking away on his alarm clock, waiting for it to scream louder than the silence he held in his throat. But today, his mother, Ariel- Elita One - was to be deployed to the boarder of the Solum Ignei Mountains once more, returning to her station after her short break to see to her family. For this reason his father, Orion Pax- Optimus Prime -had decided that they would see her off at the train station. Which meant that Rodimus was getting a lift to the Academy after they dropped his mother off.

The border where his mother worked was a major point of defence, though personally, Rod thought the war pointless. Quintessa had been prodding Cybertron and waging war since Cybertron’s defection. And that was a good four hundred years ago, nearly five hundred. They weren’t going to start doing anything now. No one had even seen a Quintesson in years, though Rodimus would happily confess to having watched a lot of Quintesson themed horror movies. His favourites were the ones where they had multiple faces, and those weird tentacle limbs.

He stared out the window of the passenger seat, blankly. Tiredly. His skin itched and his stomach churned, but for no good reason. Rod couldn’t tell why it was like this. Every day he would feel sick, some days he would even vomit in his own bathroom. He’d stand at the sink, shaking and hyperventilating, tears fighting to roll down his cheeks. But he’d force himself to the Academy like it never happened.

His father stayed as silent as he did, staring out onto the road with his usual cold glare. Blue eyes emphasised the look, so Rodimus couldn’t stare long. Optimus didn’t like talking to Rodimus, and Rodimus wasn’t surprised to know it. Not many did; it was why he only had the one friend. People he’d talked to before had been fine, but had quickly grown angry at him. Like Starscream, who’d raged against him for being stupid, or Wheelie who had called him unreliable for no apparent reason. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong. So he didn’t talk much anymore.

Vaguely, he noticed the change in scenery as they started to drive through Uray. Being closer to Iacon, able to see the Golden Spire, and the first wall, was one of the bigger differences between Upper district Tarn and the Lower District. The buildings were certainly brighter than the standard grey. There was more colour, and the houses felt like they had more… Personality? Whatever. Rod wasn’t an architect, and he didn't plan on becoming one. The changes came from being close to Iacon, he supposed. Uray was the one City in Tarn on the Iacon Train line Circle. Every State had one, not that he recalled the names of them all. He knew the train he took to the Academy, the names of the stations he passed. It was all he had to know. 

The houses were certainly better than houses he’d seen in Upper District Helex, or Kaon. He’d never actually been to Kaon himself, Upper or Lower Districts. But he trusted Blurr’s friends when they told him things about the place. Both Helex and Kaon were crawling with Decepticons though, so he guessed it was a given the areas were more decayed.

Decepticons. He breathed slowly for a minute, the rich materials used to build the houses of Uray began to blur into a rainbow of colour as he gave the subject more thought. The gang reached all over Cybertron. Only Iacon itself seemed to manage to keep them out. The rest of the country was a constant battlefield- no one knew when or where the next battle would break out. And every time the casualties would pile up a little bit more. It was almost terrifying how high the body count had gotten.

But even Iacon struggled. Recently, drug use had escalated in the central city. Bitters had been found, as had evidence of Icers and Hitters. Primus knew how they were managing to get that stuff in- with all the security that Sentinel had put in place while serving as Acting-Prime.

Rod clicked his neck, moving it side to side before adjusting his eyes to focus on the passing scenery once more. Helex was notorious as Decepticon Central. He questioned why they didn’t just lead an attack to purge them from the area. Though he had never talked to his dad about it. He wasn’t smart enough to be suggesting things about subjects he knew nothing about.

Or at least, that’s what Optimus had said last time.

It wasn’t that Rod didn’t like his father. It just wasn’t comfortable to be around him. There were so many reasons as to why he shouldn’t have existed, it made him feel like he should act like he didn’t. 

His stomach growled and he felt the burn of acid in his throat before he swallowed it back down. Optimus wouldn’t forgive him if he threw up in his truck. He wouldn’t be able to take him home, he’d say he was faking it to get out of school, like he did the last time, and the time before that and-

His heart was pounding in his chest. His limbs shook and he clutched his backpack close. They were just pulling into the Iacon check point now, but Rod knew they’d sail right through it. Optimus Prime. Everyone knew Optimus Prime, no matter where you were from. He was the hero of Tarn, the man of justice, of honour. Holder of the Matrix of Leadership, awarded for his bravery against the Decepticon gang that infected the country.

And then there was Rod. The painfully below average, worthless son of Elita One and Optimus, nephew of the great Ultra Magnus. 

His stomach churned again.

As expected, they flew through all the security checks. Rod ignored the conversation with the guards, hoping no one would address him. Let him be invisible. Let him stay quiet. Don’t make him open his mouth. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly. Hoping maybe he really was sick, and he’d get the day off. But no such luck. 

He felt the truck slow to a stop, and heard his dad pull the handbrake. He unbuckled his seatbelt as his dad started talking to him. Rod almost jumped out of the still moving truck as it pulled up against the entrance of the Academy.

“Remember, be back by seven,” Optimus called after him, though Rod kept moving. “I’ll be home by nine- to which I expect you’ll have done all your work by then. Dinner is chicken casserole. It’ll be done by the time you get home. Please inform Miss Holi that I can’t attend the parent teacher night she requested, and perhaps another date would be appropriate.”

He didn’t look back. Not when he heard the truck pulling away, not when he heard the engine purr as Optimus left. He didn’t have to- it’s not like he waved, or said goodbye in any other way. Even if he did, Optimus wouldn’t. While the date Rod had given him wasn’t the real one, he was still too busy to think of his son.

He was intercepted by Blurr at the door, and immediately forced his morning thoughts out of his head. He grinned widely, waving wildly to his friend to remove the excess panic from his body, and jogged the last meter before they started talking. 

They split soon enough, heading to their first class of the day. Blurr had to rush off for his own class, and Rod walked through the hallways alone. People lowered their voices as he passes, whispering words he couldn’t hear but he knew they were about him. They usually were. Rumours, insults, whatever was currently circulating. ‘Didn’t you hear? He nearly got expelled yesterday!’ ‘I heard he smokes in the bathroom between classes!’ ‘His dad paid off the academy to let him stay!’

None of it was true. Didn’t stop them from saying it though.

His teacher, Miss Holi, sighed as he entered the room. “Well, Rodimus Pax, looks like you’re on time for once. So glad you could _honour_ us with your illustrious presence. Did you at least attempt to do the homework today?”

Rod glared, reaching into his bag and handing her the paper she’d assigned. “I always hand in homework, Miss Holi.”

She snatched it from him, throwing it onto her desk as if it disgusted her. “I said attempt, Rodimus. You might as well turn in a blank page with how poorly you do it.”

The class laughed. Rod seethed, holding back tears. “Maybe I will then.”

Holi rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. Rod sat in his seat at the back, tossing his bag down with a bit more force than necessary. The laughter turned to snickers, and whispered insults. Rod held his pen in his hand, trying to still his shaking.

Same as usual. Just like every other day.


	2. Day 16, 2nd month Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we meet Rod's friends.  
> Friend.  
> .... hm. Maybe he should find better ones.

Lunch break was short, and left little time for Rodimus to start on his homework. Yet, he made the attempt while his notes were available to him, with hope it would allow him to rest when he got home. He slumped against ‘his’ tree. The tree itself wasn’t truly his, but only him and his two friends sat beneath it, so he felt like it had some sort of claim on it.

He was the first one there. Blurr and Bee would appear soon enough- no doubt working hard and asking their teachers about extra credit. Rod could barely keep up with the amount he had as it was. He sat staring, slightly light headed, at the pages of homework he had already been given and began to fill them out the best he could. He at least knew more about history than chemistry, but it was still hard. And Miss Holi had chased him up on his maths homework this morning, so he had to finish that fast.

He could barely make sense of it. He wasn’t smart enough for these classes.

“Already eaten lunch, Roddie?”

Rodimus looked up at the sound of Blurr’s voice. Blurr stood above him, tall and bright blue eyes wild. Grinning widely as if the amount of pressure wasn't tearing him apart. It probably wasn’t. His satchel hung from his shoulder, full of books and papers, and covered in Autobot police symbols, from his part time job working under the teachers as both a tutor and a secretary. How was he not overworked? If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed Blurr must had been some kind of robot. Doing advanced classes, having a part time job, being a part of the athletics and field club, as well as a gymnastics club, all while finding time to cook and clean the house he lived in. Considering the fact his parents must have not been home in half a decade, Rod would have assumed he’d have cracked by now.

“Roddie?”

Rod blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry. No I haven’t. But it doesn’t matter- I'm not hungry.”

It was a blatant lie. But looking at his own work against Blurr’s made him feel odd somehow. A low-key increase in the pounding of his heart, in his breathing. He felt full yet empty. Like his chest had been crushed until he imploded. Blurr gave him a disbelieving look, but ultimately sat down to work alongside his friend. Except with food and water.

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head, dyed blue hair flopping over with the movement. “I mean, you don’t look very well.”

Rod blinked. Opened his mouth. Then closed it.

“Hey guys!”

He was spared having to answer by the arrival of his cousin, and refused to let the sigh of relief escape him. He didn’t say a word, instead allowing the other two to converse between themselves. Though Blurr gave him a weird look for it.

“Man,” Bee groaned, pulling out his sandwich. “I know it’s close to the exams for the upper classes, but do we have to suffer for it? I have so much to do!”

Rod paused, staring at the papers in front of him. He wasn’t able to keep up with them anyway. But now they were talking about things he couldn’t handle, even if he so desperately wanted to. He slowly, quietly lowered his pen. 

“I’m so close to falling behind, but I’m really working for it,” Blurr smiled, like he was proud of himself. He turned to Rod, a curious look on his face. “What about you? I know you’re not in the same classes as us but…?”

Rod was silent for a moment, before speaking haltingly. “What. What I… you mean what I think?”

His friends both nodded. Rod stared at his work, and then breathed slowly. “I. I can’t bring myself to care? There’s just. So much happening.”

Neither of them said anything to stop him, though what he was saying was dangerously close to traitorous. If anything they leaned in closer, eyes slightly widened and nodding. Bee looked a little nervous, as if his dads might suddenly appear, but it wasn’t enough to tell Rod to stop. 

“It’s just a lot of pressure. Everyone wants me to be like my mum, or my dad,” he picked at the skin on his fingers and bit at his lip, avoiding eye contact or even looking at their faces. “I can’t do anything right. I’m… Not smart enough. Or strong enough, and I don’t even look like them.”

He pulled his knees up to his chest. His heart beat a little faster, and his stomach churned despite being empty. “They want me to do everything perfectly, but I can’t do anything. Nothing I do is good enough for anyone. I don’t want to try anymore, and I’m just so tired. I don’t want to get up, I don’t care if I’m late, and I can’t find anything that makes me happy anymore.”

“Do you think you’ll…” Bee paused, giving Blurr a look, eyes squinted, lips tight. “I don’t know. Make it?”

“No.” Rod’s answer was strangely certain. “I can’t do much more anyway. Miss Holi, Miss Nautica, Mr Cosmos- they’re pushing me more and more is just gonna-!”

He choked on his breath as he stopped himself, and cleared his throat. Both Bee and Blurr stared at him, and he resisted the urgent desire to tell them to stop, to look away. He felt the bile in his throat seconds before Blurr changed the subject.

“Well, if you need a break, how about you come with me down to LDTA? Dragstrip told me there was gonna be a huge race!” He grinned, though weakly, leaning in closer, despite Bee’s noise of irritation.

“Blurr! Those races are illegal! They’re usually cover-ups for Decepticon activity!” Bee huffed, glaring at Blurr as if personally offended as the other two faced him. “And Dragstrip- her father is Motormaster right? He’s been suspected of being the head of Con activity in Tarn for years now!”

Blurr and Rod looked at each other, knowing full well Bee hung out with suspected cons himself. Or at least, one. Blitzwing was almost certainly a Decepticon, but given the fact that Rod didn’t want to lose one of his few friends and Bee could drag Blurr down with him, no one said a word. But Rod turned to Blurr a few seconds later.

“Bee’s right Blurr. Those races are illegal. I’d have to lie to my dad, and can you imagine what I’d get into if I was caught? If we both were caught?!” He clutched at his ginger hair, heart pounding at the thought. “I barely want to spend time with my dad anyway. Can you imagine how grounded I’d be if I was found out at a drag race? Those things are almost always ran by cons, my dad would kill me! And then your dad-“ he gestured wildly at Bee, “-would kill me!!”

Bee made an odd face, squished in vague pain at the thought, which slowly turned to confusion. “Wait, which one?”

“Both of them!” Rod’s eyes were wide, and his breaths came short. “They’d hate me forever! No one would ever forgive me, they’d want me dead! They all would! Can you imagine the look on my mothers face?”

Blurr sighed, looking away with a pout. “Well, I mean I just wanted to go. I wouldn’t think we’d get caught, and we could leave if you didn’t enjoy it. But, I guess if you don’t want to, I can’t go alone. I’ll find someone else who’s more willing to.”

Rod felt his stomach churn horrifically, like someone had stabbed him. His dad would ground him for weeks, and he’d get angry. Then Rod wouldn’t be out of his sight. He’d be dragged around, under Optimus’ thumb for months. But despite Blurr’s whining, Rod knew that he had been to one before. Blurr had gone on over it for weeks. ‘The smell of the petrol, the roar of the engines,’ he’d said. ‘You wouldn’t believe the excitement’. And somehow Optimus hadn’t found out about that. He would have demanded Rod cut off contact with Blurr if he had- he would never allow Rod to hang out with a suspected con. He’d done so before, when he had started getting tutored by Starscream in Physics. Despite that, he didn’t want to lose his friend over cowardice. He clutched his legs tighter, and fought his voice. “W-wait, wait, I- I didn’t say no! I- I just wanted you to- to understand! The situation!”

Bee gave him a worried look. “Roddie- he’s just teasing, you don’t have to-”

“Great! Thanks Rod!” Blurr leaped into Rod’s arms, hugging him tight by leaning over his legs from where they were still clutched to his chest. “I promise, you can leave whenever you want, and it’s gonna be fine; no one is gonna catch us!”

Rod was about to reply, but instead had his attention taken by force- a flash of bright red leather jacket, blue boots and white tight jeans strutting across the Academy grounds. Black hair with a high head and red eyes holding a look of distain. Bee caught Rod’s eye, and followed its look.

“Is that Starscream? Without his two followers? Did they forget to renew their Insignias?”

Rod wasn’t even aware Thundercracker and Skywarp had Iacon passes, but he supposed it probably made sense. Especially seeing as Starscream’s girlfriend had one. Blurr followed the groups line of sight, leaning into the group with a lowered voice. “I heard from Sunstorm that he got into a huuuge argument with Slipstream, and they ended up breaking up.”

Bee groaned melodramatically, rolling his eyes, but kept his voice low, even when Starscream entered the Science Department buildings. “Are you seriously trusting that girl’s word on anything related to Starscream? You know she’s done nothing but try and destroy the poor guy’s reputation since they broke up.”

Rod made a soft noise in agreement. He’d met Slipstream all of one time, where he’d tripped over himself. She’d helped him up with less than a small giggle, though her words were hard to quite understand through her heavy Voasation accent. As opposed to Sunstorm, who was often the one to trip him. But Blurr turned around, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I heard it from Swindle that that they were arguing outside the gates, and then she stormed off. No one has seen her since, but _he_ says that his boyfriend saw her hanging around these weird guys with a kid.”

Bee gasped. “No way- you don’t think she was cheating do you?”

“No one knows,” Blurr shrugged, leaning into Rod to whisper in his ear. “But no one saw her gain weight.”

“No one saw her legally acquire an Insignia either.” Rod mused, and Bee snorted.

“Oh come on- you know it was totally bought out by Starscream’s dad. She doesn’t even have a family, she got special privileges because of money.”

The conversation would have gone on further had the bell not rung. Blurr ran to gym and Bee rushed onto his English literature. Rod stared after them for merely a moment. Their retreating forms sending a burning venom in him. Then left for his own class, physics, in a dazed state. 

Somehow the choice of going to the race seemed like the right one, despite everything telling him otherwise. His fathers rules. The Academy. His work. But he still dreaded it. 

He mentally began concocting a lie as to why he would be out late that night for his dad.


	3. Day 16, 2nd month Autumn, 2007 (evening)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus knows something.  
> Rod doesn't know which part.

Moving schoolwork into his car was nerve wracking. He felt his heart in his throat mixed in with the taste of bile, hands shaking as he stuffed papers and his favourite jacket in the backseat. Rodimus had only minutes before his dad investigated. Rod couldn’t stand the idea of trying to lie to his dad’s face. Having to do it offhandedly, casually, so that Optimus wouldn’t notice him doing so would be messy, but at least he wouldn’t have to hear the endless critique of his irresponsibility. And his existence in general.

He shut the car door, locking it with fumbling hands before sneaking out of the garage and back up to his room. Only he had the key to his car- Optimus couldn’t check the contents.

It wasn't like Rodimus was being particularly secretive either- secrecy was a regular occurance. Sneaking around Optimus in the morning. Sneaking around him to get to things during the night, during the day. Doing his chores silently while he was out and locking himself in his bedroom for the rest of the day. Only coming out for dinner and refusing to talk. Not eating much and rushing off. 

Avoiding Optimus was normal. Like he was now, creeping up the stairs close to the wall and breathing slowly through his mouth in hopes he wouldn’t be heard.

Bumblebee had told him once that it wasn’t supposed to be, that Rod sneaking around and avoiding his mother and father, even his uncles, was probably cause for concern. But Rod didn’t like to hear it, so he ignored it. He knew itlikely wasn’t right of him. Keeping everything he did a secret; he hid his reports, his grades, teachers’ notes, spouting excuses to Optimus like a fountain that he misplaced them.

He’d burned his last report card. The time before that he threw it into Iacon river.

Rod backed up from the hallway, listening for any indication of movement as guilt squirmed in his stomach. He told lies to his teachers that Optimus was simply too busy to deal with him. They believed him. They always did. Optimus didn’t, but he didn’t have time between case after case, meetings and raids and the like to chase up what Rod wouldn’t give him.

Carefully, he moved away from the door to sit on his bed, wrapping the blankets around him. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Rodimus could smell the casserole, his pulse pounding in his fingertips, and dreaded every second that passed. He didn’t want to eat. He wanted to leave. He wanted to just get out of the house, go with Blurr, then hide away at home.

“Rodimus! Dinner’s ready!”

He didn’t want to eat. He wasn’t hungry and he felt sick. But he always felt sick. What could Rod do to escape this time? Nothing. Optimus would come up the stairs and bang on his door and demand he come down and…

He heard the creak of the stair, and with no small amount of panic called back that he’d be right down. Optimus left, and he took a shaky breath as he moved. Heavy steps leading him forward, and his hand trembled over the door handle. Rodimus felt light headed. He couldn’t bring himself to look at anywhere but his feet as he made his way down the stairs. _Don’t look,_ he told himself. _Don’t look at the pictures on the walls that depict your misery, your failure._ He closed his eyes briefly, feeling a single step slip under his feet. His eyes shot open, and bile rushed up his throat as he caught himself on the banister. He shook for a moment, before he got back up. Before he turned the corner into the living room. Before he stared at his father. Optimus already sat at the table, doing paperwork, witness statements by the looks of it, while eating. Rod sat as silently as he could. The ticking of the old grandfather clock- a family heirloom from his mother’s side of the family -made the room feel like static. Buzzing off the thick walls and vibrating through the wood of the table and chairs.

Unlike Optimus, Rod had finished all his work on the train, leaving him silent and empty handed. No excuses to avoid conversation. His mother wouldn’t be back for another three months, and he stared almost hatefully at the chair she usually resided. Usually she’d be distracting his father from him. Though Rod doubted she meant to.

He tried to keep his mouth full of something at all times. Chicken, vegetables, broth, rice. Whatever worked. The broth was too salty for his tongue, and the carrots seemed to turn to ash in his mouth. The chicken wasn’t dry but for all it burned it might as well have been. He held back tears as his stomach groaned. The smell clogged his brain and his throat refused to swallow. But it still somehow wasn’t enough, as Optimus put his pen down with an audible click, demanding attention in the silence of the house.

“Rodimus,” he spoke as if he wasn’t trying to say anything, but with the authority that insisted he was. “How have you been doing?”

“Whatcha mean?” So close. So close to escaping. He felt full, even though he had barely eaten. Optimus eyed the bowl of remaining meat and vegetables with a strange look. An eyebrow raised lips pursed. As if it repulsed him somehow, as if he was afraid of how Rod could keep his mouth full so consistently without eating much at all. He watched Optimus’ fingers entwine, then untwine again and again, fidgeting as he attempted to be delicate. But it resulted in nothing less than making Rod more anxious.

“I… have heard that you haven’t been well lately.”

Bee had snitched. Whether it was to his own dads or Rodimus’s, he’d snitched. If Optimus knew about the race, then he’d know Rod lied, that he was actively lying, and he’d be in worse trouble. He wanted to leave now, but it was too risky. He couldn’t move. Not until his father showed his hand.

Optimus frowned, and Rod got the idea that the glare he was given was the look criminals got when they were interrogated. “Your teachers called me the other day, and told me that you have been increasingly more agitated in class. And if you’re not agitated, you’re almost asleep.”

“Morning classes,” Rod blurted out. “They’re- Nevermind. It’s fine.”

Optimus clearly didn’t believe his outburst, and continued. Speaking slowly, but not non threateningly. His hands pressed against the wood of the table, and he leaned forwards. “They said you’ve been missing the beginning of classes, only to come back shaking and with dark circles under your eyes. There’s been evidence to suggest you’ve been throwing up in the Academy bathrooms.”

“Cold season!” Rod tried, scratching at his wrists with subtle urgency. “Everyone gets sick this time of year. Its Autumn.”

“Rodimus,” Optimus stared him down. “Are you-?”

“I have to go.”

Rod jumped to his feet, retreating back out of the door. His heart was pounding in his throat, feeling sweat start to bead on his forehead. Optimus was going to stand, but Rod couldn’t bear the idea of being confronted. His father breathed in through his nose, and bared his teeth as if to speak, but Rod moved to the sofa to grab his jacket, his car keys, and backed up out of the living room. “Thanks for the food, but I have to go see Blurr. I said I’d- I’d see him.”

“Rodimus-!” He was using his s tern voice. He rushed down the hallway, through the kitchen to the garage door and fumbled with the handle. He felt his eyes burn, and he almost ran to his car, unlocking the door and starting the engine. He panted for air, opening the garage door that lead to the road just as Optimus slammed into the doorframe of the one that lead to the house. 

“I’ll be back later!” He gave a grin, though Optimus’ face told Rod that his dad was panicked and somewhat angry. He revved the engine, giving a final shout before he vanished into the darkness. “I’ll be at Blurr’s!”

His car swung out of the garage in a single dangerous move, and he tried to breathe slowly as he zipped around the corner, watching his father slowly vanish in the mirror. He was already going to be in so much trouble. He was going to be obliterated when he got home.

Rodimus had barely gone more than ten blocks and one turn before he had to stop, vomiting up the little he’d eaten into a storm drain. He hacked up mucus. He hiccuped, tears starting to roll down his face and a small amount of snot threatening to escape his nose.

He cleaned himself up the best he could. Then forced his shaking form back into his car. He was already late; he couldn’t let Blurr down. 

The race couldn’t be that bad. He could make it through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> occurs to me you may have questions  
> honestly? me too man. but you can ask me on my tumblr: vos-porwave.tumblr.com


	4. Day 16-17, 2nd month Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car's aren't the only thing racing, and suddenly the colour of them is important.

Arriving at the race was like trying to sneak into a goth concert in neon clothing. Everyone could see you, everyone knew you weren’t supposed to be there, and you knew you were going to get in trouble with some form of authority. Rod could feel his stomach churning, his hands shaking. Blurr was shaking too, but for other reasons.

“I’m so excited!” He squealed, bouncing up and down in Rod’s passenger seat. Rod almost didn’t catch what was said, forgetting briefly that Blurr spoke faster than most. “Aren’t you excited? I’m excited!”

The car idled. Rod swallowed hard as he tried to find the words. He could hear the roar of the crowd, the scream of engines, the voice of the announcer. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared through the window, noticing that the bright orange and redof his car screeched against the blues and greens of the other cars, like a target. Obvious in its autobot origin, like how his hair revealed him as his fathers son. He subconsciously ran a hand through the ginger locks and took a sharp breath inward with a prepared objection, but before he could speak Blurr grabbed his shoulder.

“You’re not? Roddie!” The disappointment in his voice hit like an arrow in his throat, and he fought the urge to beg forgiveness. “You said you’d come! You promised you’d stay!”

“I’m here! I’m staying, I’m staying, I promise,” Rod’s heart pounded, and he spoke almost as fast as Blurr did. “Listen, I’ll- I’ll stay!”

“Prove it.”

Rod floundered for a moment. He couldn’t duck out now. He couldn’t be a coward when Blurr was looking at him so distrustfully. Rushed, panicky, and frantic, he pulled the keys out the ignition and threw them at Blurr.

“S-see? I’m staying! I can’t drive, I can’t leave- not without my keys, so you have them! And- and we’ll leave when you want to!”

Blurr barely caught the keys, and stared at them for a moment before staring back at him, shocked. Confused. “Roddie… Listen, I- I didn’t think you were gonna leave without me. And I said, we could leave when you wanted, not when I did.”

Rod forced himself to smile. This was a test. It always was, he knew it was. Blurr was making sure he would stay, be good. “It’s fine- you know it’s fine. Lets… lets just go find seats. It’s fine, right?”

Blurr gave him a weird look, which Rod didn’t quite understand. His eyes wide, and mouth slightly open as if he wanted to object, as if he felt guilty to object against something he wanted, but still wanted it enough that he couldn’t bring himself to speak out. Rod froze under the stare, feeling his pulse begin to reach his fingertips and ears, covering the sound of engines and tires. Had he not passed the test? Did he answer wrong? Was Blurr mad at him? 

Blurr took a few shaky breaths, before nodding slowly, avoiding Rod’s eyes. “Yeah… it’s fine. Let’s go, yeah? We’ll get some snacks first. Here, I’ll pay.”

Rod nodded, suddenly feeling all too keen to get on with it. He almost fell out of the driver’s seat, and near clung to his friend as Blurr lead the way to the races. They were watched closely as they entered, but no questions were asked of them. Rod felt himself grow sicker under the surveillance. Torn, old hoodies and shaved hair, piercings on tongues and lips for intimidation. Or at least, that’s the effect they had on Rod. They sat on the hoods of cars, cygarettes in their mouths and lighters close to burning skin. The smog felt like it had hands, reaching out to Rod to choke him. To slide down his throat and tear open his lungs, twist his oesophagus and crush his tongue with thin fingers. He held on to the familiar soft jacket that Blurr almost always wore out, rubbing the fabric between his fingertips and holding back frantic gasps for air. Blurr lead them off to a little food caravan off the back of a purple all terrain dragster, clearly imported directly from Junk.

“Hey,” Blurr said, knocking Rod out of his trance. “I want a packet of those bacon bits and the blue energy drink there. Chose what you want.”

Rod jumped as he was handed about two thousand five hundred shanix. He stuttered, staring at the bills in his hands as the feeling of the jacket was torn from him, lost, all while Blurr backed away. Sure, it was enough for snacks, but why would he leave? Did Rod do something wrong? He flinched against his own thoughts; he had always done something wrong. 

“I need to do something real quick,” Blurr continued. “I’ll be right back! Get the snacks, and if I’m not back soon just find a seat, I’ll see you!”

The ‘you’re incredibly visible’ went unsaid. The bright red and orange was almost painfully bright against the dark clothes other people wore, and not for the first time Rod wished he was wearing something different. Or at least had his tell-tale hair covered. With not much more than a wave, Blurr rushed off before Rod could ask where he was going. He stared after his retreating friend, before slowly turning back to the food van, to see a very sympathetic looking man (Decepticon, his brain reminded him. Slaughtering, evil, cruel decepticon, murderous, horrible-) waiting for him to speak. His shirt was purple, as was his hair, and his teeth when they showed were sharp; sharp enough to make Rodimus think of a t-rex. There was a slight amount of stubble on his face, messy, reminding Rod of the villains in the cheesy cop dramas his dad loved.

He swallowed hard and opened his mouth. Then shut it. His hands trembled around the cash, he could feel he was sweating, his throat constricted with every breath of smog and smoke, and his heart pounded so hard he could have convinced himself it was going to pop. He wanted to leave. But he couldn’t, because Blurr wanted snacks, and he couldn’t leave Blurr again, he couldn’t-

“Hey kid,” the man spoke. “Your friend said he wanted the bacon bits and the blueberry spritz. Do you want anything too?”

His voice was soft. Rod tried to calm himself with a few deep breaths, just enough to speak, but all he managed was a vague noise. “H-hhhh, h-hg…”

“Do you want a hot dog?”

Rod nodded, feeling his skin flush red in embarrassment. But the man didn’t seem to mind, simply fulfilled his order and laid it out on the surface in front of him. “Anything else you want?”

Rod nodded frantically, expecting irritation at not saying so in the first place, but instead got a gentle nod, mimicking his own. “Alright, milkshake? Strawberry?”

He nodded again, and the vendor added it to the register. “That all?”

Rodimus felt like he was a puppet, the way his tongue seemed static and the stubborn singular movement of his head, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. The food was paid for, and Rod left with food in hand, grateful that there had been no queue behind him.

Blurr still hadn’t come back, and despite to surge of panic in his chest, and nausea in his stomach, he found a seat in the stands, on the very edge, panicked by the thought of other people so close to him, though he sat alone. A few of them gave him suspicious looks, but he gorged himself on his food, kept his straw in his mouth when he wasn’t eating, in an attempt to distract himself from the growing panic. He didn’t dare to look at any of them. He couldn’t. It would just hurt more, and he didn’t want to vomit. Again.

The first race was only two people neither of which Rod recognised. The announcer informed the crowd it was a ‘death duel’, which according to the reaction was quite popular. The drivers were announced, Barrage and Tantrum. Both of them driving very heavy looking trucks. Possibly army grade.

Definitely not street legal.

He watched offhandedly, more interested in his missing friend than the race itself. They raced round and around the track, so much so that Rod thought he might get dizzy, until one of the tires popped

Hours passed. Races passed. Rod stayed.

Blurr hadn’t come back.

Rod kept trying to look around for the familiar pastel blue hair, but found himself near enough paralysed from nerves. Race after race passed, the burning smell of petrol, the blur of colours from the racing cars. It burned Rod’s senses, and he forced himself to keep his eyes open. The grease of food hovered low in the air, and the taste of ketchup and acid lingered in his mouth. Hours, what felt like days to Rod as he clutched his drink and tried not to fall apart. People moved around him but none of them stopped, and for that he was grateful. But the heart pounding abandonment…

No, Blurr wouldn’t leave him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, or was this revenge? Punishment? Had Blurr really left? He had to have, at this point. Just like everyone else. He had left, leaving Rod alone. Maybe he’d been to clingy. Had he bothered Blurr earlier when they were walking? Did he hear him wrong? Tears burned at his eyes, and he was dragged back to reality as the last race was announced. 

The voice booming over the cheers announced the four racers and their cars- the only name he recognised was Dragstrip. And when he looked up, he found it was in fact Blurr’s friend, though only identifiable by her fluffy golden mohawk- having inherited her mother’s Junk genetics. Maybe he could ask her for help after the race. But he didn’t know her. And what if Blurr had told her about how terrible he was? About how flaky and dishonest he was, about how he wasn’t smart, about everything that made him disgusting? What if she hated him for his father? For his mother, his uncle? 

He moved his eyes away from her. And found himself staring into bright red; the eyes of one of the racers, passionate crimson, with white hair stained like glass with a mix of reds, yellows, and blacks. His body was defined, not unlike an athlete. Though definitely more earned by manual labour than the act of working out- Natural. 

The racer grinned at him, winked. Rod felt his skin boil and hid behind his drink, averting his eyes to the clearly not street legal car the racer drove. Black. Purple. It could not have been more obviously Decepticon but Rod couldn’t care less right now- the red-tinted glass and its sleekness, betraying its custom make, and differences from its original mould. He could see where the undercarriage had been altered, presumably in order to make the ride smoother or faster, or something like that; He wasn’t a mechanic.

The other two racers he didn’t see for long, as panic overtook him and he he hid back down. He’d been caught staring, he’d been looking up too long. One of his hands come up to cover his lower face as he grew more flustered. They’d winked at him. _Winked_. He realised the race had started while he’d been hiding, and slowly, he gathered the nerve to look at the track. If only to watch the racer’s, his racer’s, twilight-coloured drive roar louder than the crowds, rush by fast enough to melt into a sunset gradient. 

Watching it drift the corners, leaving black marks in its wake. Hearing the purr of the engine reverberate through the stands, through him. It resonated with something inside of him, calmed him. He could fall asleep watching the powerful dragster drive. And its driver…

But it was over too soon. Rod’s racer won, standing atop the roof of his car and encouraging the cheers of the crowd. His red eyes scanned, until they fell on Rod’s blue ones once more. He grinned, and waved. Before blowing him a kiss.

Rod almost swooned. It was laughable. But he still waved back, albeit shyly. 

He was congratulated, his name announced as Deadlock as a trophy was handed to him. Scuffed, but still shining. Rod thought it reflected the driver, Deadlock, well. The crowds were frantic with passionate energy, cheering and screaming, until the racers left. And the crowds dispersed, leaving Rod buzzing with something he couldn’t quite place.

But there was still no sight of Blurr. And no keys. His bag was in the car, so he couldn’t contact anyone. He didn’t have any money. He didn’t want to have to walk from LDTA to UDTA, it would take hours, and what if something happened on the way back?

He moved with the crowd to the car park. Resisting the urge to cry, stumbling forwards to place the rubbish in a nearby bin, still holding onto the energy drink and the bacon bits. He’d need to give them to Blurr- with the race over he’d be waiting by the car. Rod deserved to be treated like this and he knew it. 

He always flaked out on Blurr. He went home early instead of going shopping. If he went to Iacon arcade he went alone. Blurr was usually incredibly patient with him, but it always ran out by the end of the year. And with it being late autumn, Blurr was starting to loose it. Rod knew the main reason why Blurr stayed near him was the influence. Knowing people was important if you wanted a job in the Autobot force, and knowing Rod’s dad was a sure shoe in. It wasn’t like Blurr didn’t like him. But he was the only person who didn't hate him. The damaged son. 

He’d nearly left Blurr alone, it was only fitting he share the same fate.

The crowds vanished, and Rod waited. The thought of accidentally bothering someone like this was sickening, and he already felt remarkably unwell. It occurred to him suddenly, like a lightning bolt or a flash flood, that there was something wrong. He clutched the leftover snacks tightly and started scanning the area. The cars around him were all the same colours- browns and blues, the occasional green or purple. They blended in with one another like a strange quilt. And there lay the problem. His heart stopped at the realisation.

There was no bright orange and yellow. Rod’s car was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I haven't explained it well: LDTA and UDTA stand for Lower District Tarn and Upper District Tarn. The reason why Tarn is 'TA' is because Tesarus is 'TE'.


	5. Day 17, 2nd Month Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vroom vroom we're picking up speed.

_This was going to be fine_ , Rod tried to convince his pounding heart and screaming lungs, as the panic suddenly hit him through the forced apathy. His stomach churned with the food inside and there was barely a moment for Rod to realise what was about to happen before it did. He coughed and hacked, bracing himself on a rotting wooden fence as his stomach emptied itself. Rod sniffled weakly while he gave empty heaves. Again and again he vomited until the lining of his stomach protested. He shivered and shook violently, trying to soften the noises of his misery.

He was dizzy. He was cold and dizzy and Blurr was gone and so was his car and he didn’t have his phone or his keys and…

And Optimus. Optimus was going to kill him. If the Decepticons around here didn’t first. He’d have to start walking. There was no one he could contact, Blurr wasn’t coming back for him, and he had no money. A few shaky steps told him he wouldn’t make it far, but he had to try.

He had barely started walking when someone grabbed him by the shoulder. 

They spun him around, nearly knocking him down, and he was hoisted up by three very heavily built men. Though short, they were still taller than him, and all over again Rod felt like any moment now the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He didn’t have to know names to know who, or rather what, they were.

“Well, well, well,” one of them grinned. Wide, horrible, teeth sharp and eyes manic. “It really is, isn’t it? Little red Rodimus Pax, out here all alone. The golden child of the Prime legacy- why he looks just like his mother.”

Ah. Right. Rod could feel himself shrinking in on himself at the reminder. Of course they would alike him to _them_. Even here. Even now, as they closed in on him, he felt terrible for being recognised thanks to his ever present parents. He didn’t even look like them. He didn’t even _like_ -

“Looks like you were right Sparkstalker,” another snickered, as the first’s hand tightened on Rod’s shoulder. “I wonder why he’s here? To scout the area perhaps? Maybe he thinks he could spy on us.”

Rod fought tears, and managed to hiccup out a few words. “P-please, I just want to go home, I- I don’t want any trouble.”

“You don’t want trouble, huh?” Sparkstalker, as Rod figured, leaned in, smiling widely. “You know, I think he’s telling the truth. I can practically smell it on him, can’t you Flamefeather?”

Flamefeather laughed. “Oh I can smell something. Seems Little Red Rodimus isn’t feeling very well. What’s the matter? Can’t stand being around ‘Decepticon ilk’?”

He didn’t get a chance to defend himself, as he found himself lifted and shoved against the fence by the last one, still unnamed. “If that’s the case, I think he needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You don’t think, Cindersaur,” Sparkstalker sighed. But he didn’t seem to be against it. “What are we feeling, fingers, limbs?”

Flamefeather squealed, gripping Rod by the waist. “I have an even better idea! Remember Sentinel?”

Rod did. Who didn’t know about the last Prime of Iacon being strung upside down in front of the spire, a Decepticon symbol carved into his chest? He couldn’t breathe. He wheezed, and no longer had the strength to stop himself crying as the three around him excited each other with progressively more gruesome thoughts.

“Awww, Sparkstalker look,” Flamefeather cooed. “I think he’s gonna cry!”

“Anyone would cry if they had to look at your faces.”

Rod was dropped. The three suddenly scrambled in apparent panic as he shivered and sniffled on the dirt. His eyes were clenched shut, but the speakers’ voice was a snarl, a disgusted tone, as if the stranger had been personally offended by the existence of the people around him.

“D-Deadlock!” Rod managed to open his eyes to watch the three take on remarkably humble body language, shuffling around awkwardly. “We- we found this Autobot out here and- we were just-“

“Leaving.” ‘Deadlock’ lifted a hand, silencing the other men completely. Rod recognised him as the racer he’d made eye contact with and relief shot through him like an arrow. He couldn’t believe he was being saved. “I expect, Sparkstalker, you’ll do well to keep these two _imbeciles_ out of trouble?”

“Y-yes sir,” Sparkstalker nodded frantically, dragging the other two away. “Of course, of course, we’re- we’re very sorry.”

Deadlock nodded, and waved them on their way. As soon as they’d gone, he turned to Rod, who flinched under the powerful gaze. It hit him that maybe he hadn’t been saved, but claimed as a target, and scrambled back until he realised the fence blocked any escape route.

“So, Rodimus Pax,” The red eyes gazed down on him, and Rod stared, barely noticing as the edges of his own vision go black. “I do have to ask as to why such an upstanding citizen as yourself is-“

Rod didn’t hear another word. The world spun, colours blurred, and his vision went completely black. 

When he next opened his eyes, he found himself laying down, staring at the ceiling of a car. He’d passed out, he realised with sudden clarity. Although only for a moment as it seemed. As when he came back, Deadlock had him in the backseat of a car. He sat somewhat awkwardly in the drivers seat, facing Rod. Apparently waiting for him to wake up.

“You sentient yet? Well. I’m sure that was embarrassing for you, but I still need answers.”

Rod’s skin flushed red, and he slowly sat up in the seat. He looked around, seeing black leather upholstery, a purple blanket over his legs, and nearly asked where he was. Though the red tinted windows told him everything. His attention went to the lights on the dash, the empty lot outside the windows, anything but Deadlock’s face.

“I- I was here with a friend. He… he wanted to come down and…” He cut himself off, resisting the restless urge to reveal more information under the intense gaze.

“And? What, did he vanish?”

“… Him and my car are gone. He had my keys.”

Deadlock’s mouth made a small oh as he connected the dots. “Ah. I see. So are you getting the train back?”

“No ticket. No money.”

“Calling someone? A taxi?”

“My phone was in my car.”

Every successive question made Rod feel more and more stupid. He had made so many mistakes in the past few hours, Optimus would be furious, Elita would be furious, he could get kicked out of the academy, he could be arrested on suspicion of Decepticon activity, he… he felt useless. He _was_ useless. He was going to get in so much trouble when he got home. If he got home. He was in a Decepticon’s car- one with high amounts of respect, was clearly feared by others. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

“You live where?”

“New Spark.” He tilted his head, an eyebrow raised.  He’d kind of assumed it was common information.

Deadlock sighed, then nodded slowly. Resolve clear on his face. “I can drive you home.”

Rod stared blankly. Too shocked to question it, but Deadlock elaborated on his offer anyway.

“I mean, you’re already in my car. It’s maybe a hour and a half in the direction I’m going anyway. If you give finer details I’ll have you home soon enough.”

It could have been a trap. Perhaps a trick, a hostage situation, something like that. But Rod didn’t particularly care at the moment. He was tired. His stomach was empty and he literally couldn’t have cared less if this guy killed him in the middle of nowhere. It’d probably be preferable to facing Optimus. “If you’re sure?”

Deadlock nodded, and patted the passenger seat. Groaning, resigned to his fate, Rod climbed into it. “Fuck it, thanks. Take me home.”

Deadlock snorted, starting the car engine. They were silent for a moment. Deadlock moving out of the car park with practiced ease of a fine racer, and Rod staring out of the window in practiced aloofness until they got onto the main road.

“So what were you really doing at the race?”

Rod gave a soft noise of confusion, not daring to take his eyes from the road, though he could swear he felt Deadlock’s on him.

“I mean what I said kid. What were you really doing at the race?”

Rod closed his eyes, speaking softly, expecting anything to set the other man off. “My friend talked me into coming. I didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want to come alone. I couldn’t leave him and… I’ve let him down too much already.”

“Really? That’s it?”

Rod nodded, shifting somewhat uncomfortably, though still staring out the window in hopes the other could not hear his heartbeat. “Primus honest truth. And then both him and my car disappeared.”

“So your friend stole your car?”

“I’m sure he had some reason,” Rod dismissed, halfheartedly. He was too tired for it right now. “I disappointed him anyway. It’s probably fair.”

He could almost hear the eyebrow raise. “If he thinks stealing your car is an appropriate response for you not being around much he’s not much of a friend.”

Rod turned his head with a glare, though it quickly weakened and he couldn’t maintain it long. Soon his head was back against the window, too tired to argue. Rod wanted to stand up for his friend, honest to Primus he did, but… the statement just seemed so honest. He caught the other man giving him a few looks, but couldn’t judge them. Not a single feature moved in a way Rod could recall attributing to a feeling. He spoke again soon enough though, making his attitude easier to place.

“You know, I stole a car once.”

Rod smiled, weakly. But felt his stomach surge. He had forgotten. Deadlock was a Decepticon, and of course someone like that would have such a history. He fought a flinch at the revelation, with a forced laugh. “It’s not the one we’re in is it?”

Deadlock laughed with him, though his was genuine, shaking his head. “No no, this one I got legally. I wasn’t feeling well so I thought I’d go home, and I _thought_ someone else's car was my own. Ended up smashing the window to get in and crashing it in a farm up in LDTE.”

Rod snorted. There were clearly details omitted, but he didn’t dwell on them. Where Deadlock was returning home from, and as to why he thought another car was his own… that wasn’t Rod’s business. “You run an exciting life.”

“I run a dangerous life. And so do you- though I assume it’s not your choice to, judging by your friend.”

Rod gave him a sour look. “Oh and I suppose someone called ‘Deadlock’ is?”

The man gave him a curious look. “It’s not what everyone calls me.”

Rod did a double take. “It isn’t?”

“Sure. Sometimes people call me ‘freeze’, or ‘hands where I can see them’.”

Rod couldn’t help it. He snorted, then it grew louder and more heartfelt, until it turned into a full blown laugh. He felt better now than he had all day, and eventually, once he’d calmed down a bit, he realised Deadlock was laughing with him. He felt warm. Soft. Like his chest was made of marshmallows. 

“Wow,” he said between chuckles. “Best response that one’s gotten.”

“I haven’t heard it before.”

Deadlock gave him a weird smile, as if regretful somehow. “I suppose you wouldn’t. What do people call you?”

“Rodimus,” h e answered. Deadlock gave a moment before responding.

“What do you call yourself?”

Rod couldn’t answer. Something seemed off about it.The question just didn’t click with him, as if answering would be wrong, the action alone condemming. But Deadlock waited, so, speaking quietly, Rod answered. “Hot Rod.”

Deadlock didn’t react poorly. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t tell him it was stupid, he didn’t tell him to shut up, and relief rushed over Rod live a river, a waterfall. His lungs felt weirdly clearer, and something was strange about the entire situation. Like he wasn’t in danger at all, his heart, his brain, was calm. But it was nice, as terrifying as it was. “Hot Rod huh? I like it.”

Rod smiled in return. “Really? People usually say it sounds dumb.”

“Who?”

Rod shrunk away from the question, and Deadlock moved on quickly to his relief. “Doesn’t matter I guess. They’re wrong, and you can call yourself what you like. Your birth name doesn’t have to mean anything to you if you don’t want it to.”

“Does yours?”

Deadlock paused. “I don’t think so. It’s got a lot of stuff tied to it I don’t want.”

Rod nodded in understanding. Blurr was like that too with his dead name. “What kinda stuff?”

“I don’t know, is there a tape recorder under your shirt?” Deadlock chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Kidding. But I’m serious- don’t ask questions that you’re not prepared to get the answer to.”

Rod made a soft noise of acceptance, and relaxed back in his seat. This was nice. It felt good to talk to Deadlock, and it felt better to be in somewhere warm. He was sure the feeling would be ruined by something he did, but it hadn’t been yet. For now things were alright. Usually he ruined things a lot faster than ten minutes. Like how he had enraged Starscream with his stupidity. How he angered his teachers. This was nice. He dared to push a little further.

“I don’t usually ask questions at all.”

“Hm?”

Rod nodded. “The teachers at the academy get mad when I ask things. I don’t get a lot of stuff that I should, and I’m slow, I don’t get things. I don’t know what they mean and I can’t keep up with the others in my class. But I’m supposed to!”

He felt bad, but Deadlock’s voice somehow broke through it. “People are sometimes just slow. It’s not your fault or anything.”

Rod looked to him in shock. “It isn’t? But- my family, they’re all smart, shouldn’t I be too? It’s like, genetic, right?”

Deadlock shook his head. “Not at all. Sometimes things just won’t click, and it’s not bad that it happens. Not understanding things is a part of life. You may find out the answers eventually or you might not. Doesn’t matter really. So long as you’re happy with yourself.”

“But I’m not,” Rod blurted out, suddenly finding words falling out of his mouth. “I’m tired all the time. Things I used to think were fun are exhausting. Everything is hard to do and I don’t know how to fix it! Everyone keeps telling me I just have to work harder, I just have to stay positive. But I can’t! I can’t work harder and nothing stays positive! There’s so much to do, so much I don’t understand! The work is hard and I’m just…”

“Sounds like you’ve got some problems kid,” H e was sympathetic, not exasperated; soft, not harsh. It felt good, right. He wanted to wrap himself up in Deadlock’s voice forever. “But it’s not your fault. You’re tired. You’re sad. It’s not your fault, and it’ll be good for you to rest for a while. But you can’t wallow in it forever. You have to find ways past it, you have to work at your own pace to find something that works.” He shrugged, and took the turn into New Spark. 

“I was… not like you, but alike to you when I was your age. I was angry and reckless and I didn’t want to do anything because everything made me feel worse. But I’m ok now. I’m twenty one and I’m getting there, and eventually I’ll be ok.”

“Don’t you mean ok again?”

Deadlock shook his head. “I’ve never been alright. From the start I was fucked, and only recently have I been getting anywhere. I have a lot of people I owe. A lot of people to thank, and not all of them are still alive. But I am here. I am still alive. And that’s all you have to strive for right now, hot Rod.”

Rod gave him a soft, surprised look. Deadlock knowing people who were dead seemed surprising somehow. As if it wasn’t supposed to be a part of life. And the fact that recovery didn’t mean not being what you thought you used to be… he looked back out the window, but more towards his reflection against the glass. Then jumped when he felt a hand over his. Deadlock’s hand was cold and calloused, likely from manual labour. He seemed to almost cling to Hot Rod’s heat.

“Just stay alive. You can figure out the rest later.”

They were both silent after that, aside from a few directions. They arrived at Rod’s house uneventfully, thought Rod felt the view sting, burn, somewhere inside of him. He gave a pained look to the lights still on, stomach dropping like lead. Optimus was waiting for him. He hadn’t let go of Deadlock’s hand.

“… Hot Rod?”

Rod looked at him. He looked almost afraid. As if Rod returning home was something to fear. “Are you gonna be alright?”

Rod looked at him. _No_ , he wanted to say. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted to stay with Deadlock. He didn’t want to face Optimus, his heart pounded all over again, he didn’t want to be yelled at. Rod didn’t know if he could handle it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said instead, slowly unbuckling the seatbelt. Moving for the handle. Opening the passenger door. “It’ll be ok, but…”

“But?”

“…Could I see you again? Maybe? I mean you don’t have to and I’m sure you’re busy and you probably don’t want to and- and I’m probably too young for you to hang out with and I’m stupid anyway and-“

He was cut off by Deadlocks hand gently raising to press on his lips. He smiled, reassuring and soft. “I’d love to see you again Hot Rod. Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

Rod felt himself flush as Deadlock pulled his hand away. “I- I hope- I really- I hope so.” He stuttered, unusually embarrassed. He fell out of the car, tripping on the curb, and shut the door behind him.

He watched the car drive away until he couldn't see it anymore. He felt warm, staring out after the older man. Safe. Happy.

Then he turned to the house, and felt everything drain from him faster than water down a plug. He didn’t want to go in. He knew Optimus would be furious; he couldn't look at his doom in the eye.

But he had to.

With a deep breath, he walked to the door, like he was headed to the gallows.


	6. Day 17, 2nd Month Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus has a bad time, and we meet a few other people he knows.

Rodimus had been right- Optimus had been furious. No, to say he had been furious was an understatement. Optimus had been seething. He had been raging when Rod opened the door, demanding to know where he had been. He had called Blurr’s house, Rod’s mobile, and received nothing in return. Optimus was more mad about Rod lying than the potential danger he could have been in. He didn’t need Optimus to tell him that to know it.

He had yelled until his voice was raw. About being home in the early hours of the morning, about his responsibilities, about lying. The look on his face when he found out that Rod’s car was missing… Rod wished he was dead. He wanted his neck to snap, his heart to give out. He wanted anything to happen at all that meant he didn’t have to experience this. Optimus had asked him how he got home. Rod couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. He had said he’d walked. Optimus didn’t calm at it, but seemed to admit it as a preference to potentially getting in a Decepticon’s car.

Rod thought he was going to be sick at that statement.

Optimus berated him again and again, saying that the rules he had established were there for a reason. Claiming that his un-autobot behaviour was a threat that would be taken seriously. This wasn’t the first time Rod had received this lecture and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

With less than a minute until Optimus had to leave for work, he’d been hustled into the van once again. No breakfast, no sleep. He supposed it was fair. Optimus didn’t seem to want to leave him alone and on such short notice he didn’t have much of a choice. Rod’s stomach burned regardless. He felt faint. He felt sick. He was tired and hurt and everything ache.

But then again, when did he not.

He kept his forehead against the window, no longer bothering to listen to the rant the Prime was giving, merely concentrating on not being ill. Staring out of the window, watching scenery go by. Repetitive, identical house after house. Street after street. slowly degrading. Almost like a flip book of the same house, ageing, year after year, as it eventually crumbled to dust.

Maybe it was a bit melodramatic. But it was more accurate than anything else he had thought for a long time.

He felt like he could have been rocked to sleep. The ongoing similarity, like the background of an old video game at one of the Iacon arcades, where it was just the same over and over, the purr of the engine, the start and stop at red lights. The casual avoidance of conversation. He wished it could last forever, if only to avoid the truth of the situation. But he knew it wouldn’t last.

He got out of the car before it had even stopped, despite the noise of objection from Optimus. Maybe he’d be lucky. Maybe he’d be hit by a bus. Maybe he could get set on fire, decapitated by anything at all, choked to death, maybe he could-

“Rodimus.”

“I know.”

Rod had heard that tone too many times in his short life to really feel intimidated by it anymore. Especially now. When nothing seemed to matter, when the world seemed greyer than that of the Tarn Police HQ in front of him. The sad squeak and squeal of the rotating poles seemed louder than usual as he tailed behind Optimus as they went up the stairs. He was here so he could “keep him out of trouble”. Something Rod felt like he’d hear a lot more of in the future. After all, he had a reputation to upkeep. A family reputation. Elita, Optimus, Magnus, Jazz, Alpha Trion. Everyone in his family amounted to something.

Except him.

“Cliffjumper, goodmorning,” Optimus spoke, friendly. What Rod wouldn’t give to have someone speak to him as if he wasn’t a burden. A disgusting mess that no one wanted. Much like his opinion of the light filtered through the glass of the auditorium, reflecting off the peach tiles. Or maybe it was beige. Or white? “Rodimus is here with us this morning, sorry there was no warning prior warning.”

No, it was definitely peach. Wait. Peach was orange, right? That meant it was beige. Wait. That was brown. White? Grey? It definitely had a tint to it.

“Not at all,” Cliffjumper waved his hand with a wide smile on his face. Rod squinted. It was seven am. Why was he so smiley? What time did this man get up this morning? “We just gotta put him on the guest register, you know what it’s about.”

“Of course.” Optimus shoved Rod forwards to sign, admittedly with more force than perhaps necessary. Rod stared blankly for a moment, pen in his hand. As if wondering if he should merely write ‘failure’ and be done with it all. The building was tall enough. There was a main road outside.

Then he simply wrote his name and continued his internal commentary on the architecture of the Tarn Police HQ building. For example; who needed two doors leading to the same place? Did it matter which one he was being dragged through, as a tight grip appeared around his arm? He hoped somehow he would be torn in two.

Just before the doors shut behind them, he caught Cliffjumper giving him a weird look.

They continued going left, past the break room, the interrogation rooms, video storage, and the meeting room. Until they came up to the investigations offices. Rodimus felt himself wince. Great. Hours of fun, sitting alone, being quiet because no one trusted him to help out. What a surprise. It’s not like every other time he had to be here, this is where he ended up.

“Prowl?” Optimus called out over the office cubicles. Of course, even at this hour in the morning they were empty. Optimus would never be so inconsiderate to disturb another working colleague. “Are you here?”

The Praxian appeared from somewhere in the back, both camouflaging with the office and not. Likely due to the red Praxian stripe on the tips of his hair. Or maybe it was just that Prowl’s very existence demanded attention. Usually negative. People didn’t like Prowl.

Not as much as they hated Rodimus, of course.

“Yes, I’m here. What do you need?”Ah, Prowl. Blunt and to the point. No nonsense Prowl. Cold callous Prowl. The heartless heartthrob. These were names of which Rod had never been heard used. But he felt like they suited.

“I was hoping you could keep an eye on Rodimus for me,” Prowl’s face resembled the look of someone who just bit into a lemon. Unsurprising. “I’m sure he won’t get in the way.”

Of course he wouldn’t. He’d be shoved in the corner and told to keep himself occupied. No one liked having him around. No one wanted him to be here. He wouldn’t be missed, no one would care if something were to happen. Just a little accident, that’s all that needed to happen.

Prowl nodded, indicating his assurance that he would take care of Rod for him. Optimus thanked him and left. And as soon as he turned the corner Rod raised his hand before Prowl could speak.

“Find a corner stay quiet and don’t pester anyone,” for some reason his voice didn’t sound like his own. As if distant, not quite coming out of his own mouth. Somehow echoed in the silence of the offices. “Just like old times. Where I don’t speak and I don’t move and I don’t bother anyone and people get mad at me anyway.”

Prowl looked at him weird. It made Rod feel uncomfortable. He scratched at his wrists under the sleeves of his jacket. The wide blue eyes, the slightly parted lips, the upturned eyebrows. Somehow a normal look became intimidating under the buzz Rodimus felt in his brain.

“I mean we could all just lock me in a cell and forget about me forever. Those are still downstairs right? It’d be totally preferable. Optimus would be delighted with your ingenuity if you did.”

Prowl pulled a face, a single hand awkwardly reaching out. “Rodimus-“

“Yeah you’re probably right, I’ve never seen him happy before when I’m involved,” why couldn’t he shut up? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Prowl gave him such a horrible horrible look, looking at him like- like- “So I have no idea what kinda stunt you’d have to pull to make him happy!”

Prowl looked uncomfortable. “Rodimus-“ 

Rod laughed. Stop, just stop, stop stop- “I mean I’m just such a dud you know? Like I can only imagine the disappointment I caused. Two of the best get together, make a kid, and this is what they get? Man, I’d be mad too! Primus, I’m just one big, super wrong! A good for nothing, useless, pathetic piece of-!”

“Rodimus?”

Everything stopped. His heart froze in his chest, and slowly everything started again. Like a hard reset Rod came back and he swallowed a choked breath as Prowl’s face ran from worried to relief. Rod turned, forcing a smile on his face. “Oh, Springer! Hey!”

Springer was like an older brother, but he was distant. He wasn’t around, he was busy. He didn’t have time for someone like Rod. But he leant down, being much taller than Rod, and ruffled his hair. And not for the first time, Rod had to swallow a plea for further contact.

“How you doing Hot Rod? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

Rod smiled, too wide, too many teeth, and he knew it’d never reach his eyes. But he could pass it off as being tired. No one would ask anyway. No one would care too. “Well I- I’ve been- yeah, yeah, I’m- it’s- anyway, how are you?”

Springer stared for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, but suddenly closed it as his eyes flicked behind Rod. “Well we Wreckers got a lot of work to do, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. I’m just over here to drop off reports.”

“If you wrote them I’m not looking forwards to it.” Prowl snorted, slipping through to take the papers under Springer’s arm. Then he paused, and quickly wrote something on a small piece of paper.

“Oh, before you go can you take this to Kup?” He held it out, taking care to hold it in a particular way. Facing away from Rod. “It’s a small bit of info, but I feel like he might want to know it.”

Springer gave him a confused look, but quickly seemed to realise something as he read the note. He nodded, backing up. “Windcharger, eh? I’ll get it to him. See you later Prowl, Hot Rod.”

He gave one last smile and wave to Rod before going off, leaving him with Prowl, who appeared to be setting up a spare desk for him. He squinted, something inside of him squirming uncomfortably.

That note was not about Windcharger. He was almost sure of it.

Prowl gestured to the desk. “I’ll get you some books or something, if you have homework or something. And if you need help I can. I can help.”

Despite knowing he wouldn’t ask, Rod nodded in confirmation. He sat, and blinked in confusion as a glass of water was placed on the desk next to him. When he looked at Prowl, he shrugged in an answer. 

As he left, Rod let his head hit the table. How long. How long would he have to sit here, being a good little autobot, until his father was satisfied. He was almost certain it would be never. Nothing he did was enough. Nothing he did was right. He’d be here day after day, until he was moulded back into the perfect person he was supposed to be. Until, just like the houses, he rotted away, turned to dust and to bone. Nothing but his failures trailing up his short existence.

Then he would fade into nothing. Darkness, and distance. Disappointment and emptiness filling all those who knew him. Even now. That’s why he was here after all. He could only imagine how his mother would react when she got home. He couldn’t wait for the list of things he’d messed up to be handed to her. Optimus was only one third of the lecture. Magnus would be next. And as soon as Elita was home she’d start too.

He’d be kept in a cell were it legal.

Vaguely, he started to realise time was passing too fast. But his eyes were way too heavy for him to care enough to look. He felt something be put around his shoulders, and his brain felt like static. Thoughts jumbling together like a kaleidoscope. Or something. One of those puzzles that were made of tie dye or something. 

It didn’t matter anyway. He was too tired to notice. To care.


	7. Day 27, 2nd Month of Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's only crying, he's only dying, he's only...

Rod had been laying in bed long since when he was supposed to leave. Ground shatteringly tired yet uncomfortable. He felt cold, as if all the warmth in the world had been stolen from him, as if he was frozen solid in his own bed. He eventually forced himself out of the blankets and into his clothes. 

He hadn’t eaten, finding himself empty, but not hungry. Not only that, but a brief aside from his father had ripped him out of his body.

Optimus had snipped at him on how he was late, how he was irresponsible. He hadn’t raised a fist, but he might as well have for how it hurt. Rodimus had flinched under the accusing scare. It hurt. It always hurt, and when he had begun to cry, Optimus had scoffed. He told him to ‘just leave’. And Rodimus did.

He felt like he was in a daze as he boarded the train to Iacon academy. Faces blurred together in a similar mess until he reached the steps. Time passing, too fast. Too slow. He didn’t know who they were or who he was. Where they were going, where he was going. He wanted to cry, but he felt nothing. So little inside of him.

His footsteps echoed in the silence of the campus. No students in the empty halls, no voices, no eyes. It was almost peace. But it was too agonising for peace. As his soles hit the tiles, as he ascended slowly to what felt like the gallows. He was tired. He wanted to collapse, to just stay there, half up the stairs with his blood cold and his brain blank. 

But he didn’t.

Blurr would still be mad at him. He wouldn’t want to talk to him. He had dropped Rod’s car off outside his house, keys dropped through the letter box. Rod only friend would leave him. And even though Bee was his cousin, he wouldn’t talk to him, because Rod went to the race. No one liked him. No one wanted to be around him. Not even _he_ wanted to be around himself.

He walked into the front office, where Arcee sat in her usual spot behind the visitors desk, near the sliding window that served as the only opening to speak to her, or any other secretary. Sat as pristine as usual. As expected of the ex-Elita. Rod thought it was a shame she had to quit, but he supposed it was fair in the end. She definitely had problems left over from the constant war, and he didn’t look forward to seeing the same results on his own mother.

“Late again, Rodimus?” Her voice was sour, and Rod flinched under the fierce glare she gave. “Your father was never late to his classes.”

Something inside him twitched. “Well Optimus was never a failure was he? He was never a fucking disgrace like I am!”

He didn’t realise he was yelling- that he was talking at all -until he had finished his sentence.

She stared at him with wide eyes, quite obviously taken aback. Rod felt his skin flush furiously, and he almost choked on his desperate apologies. 

“I- I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean to shout I didn’t- it was unnecessary and I shouldn’t have, I- please don’t tell anyone, don’t tell Optimus, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go, I’m sorry.”

He signed himself in as late, ignoring the close to worried look Arcee gave him. She shouldn’t worry about him; no one should. She had far more important things to worry about than someone like him- someone as stupid and as annoying and worthless as he was.

He knew where his classroom was. He knew where he had to go. He knew what class he had, but he still delayed. He didn’t want to face the people inside, he didn’t want to face Miss Holi, or her bereavements. He didn’t want the disappointment. But he knew it was coming anyway. It was all he ever got.

He fought pain swirling in his stomach, threatening to force its way out, when he opened the door to a bitter glare. The other students followed his swaying form, but the small class said nothing.

“Slept in again, Rodimus?” Holi huffed, slamming a textbook down at Rod’s desk, an unspoken instruction to sit. 

He didn’t reply. He just sat down, slowly getting out his things- his pencil case, his books, his maths equipment set. But she didn’t stop.

“Your attendance score is atrocious. Below ninety percent! If your grades weren’t bad before they certainly would be because of that attendance!”

He swallowed down bile. He swallowed down bitter words of resentment.

“I keep telling you; if you keep up this behaviour you’ll be in serious trouble! We all know you’re more capable than what you apply yourself to, you’re just lazy! You hold yourself back, and you skive off, and you don’t do any of your work to a decent standard! Your behaviour is terrible for an Autobot- you should be holding up an example! Were you anyone else's child, I’m sure you would have been expelled by now!”

Something in Rod snapped. Rod couldn’t have told anyone what, but it snapped. Like a frayed rubber band that had been stretched far beyond its capabilities. He saw red, he saw black, he saw the look of disappointment on his parents’ faces.

“Well maybe you fucking should!” He roared. Miss Holi jumped back in shock, knocking her hip on her own desk as she did. “Maybe I should just be expelled!! Maybe I should just give up! I’ve been a disappointment all my life, what’s another one, am I right! What’s another notch on the reasons I shouldn’t exist?!”

He felt his body slump with exasperation, shrugging helplessly and feeling tears burn at the edges of his eyes. “Fuck! Maybe I should just leave! It’s not like I’m wanted here! Optimus hates me! Fuck, why wouldn’t he? Even I hate me! I’m not wanted anywhere! Not here, not at home, no one cares! I don’t care! I don’t care at all, I’m sick of living! I’m sick of being alive, of existing! Primus, I’d give fucking anything for the courage to just-!”

He stopped. Suddenly. His heart pounded. He shook, he felt sick. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his throat hurt. Time seemed to be frozen, and he stared down at his desk. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have done anything. He could feel the eyes on him. Thousands upon thousands, staring, watching, judging.

Hating.

“I- I-“ he tried, through shaky breaths. “I’m- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just…”

He clenched his eyes shut, as if they would stop the tears, and continued in a soft, quiet, desperate voice. “Please, please don’t tell Optimus.”

The class was silent. No one moved, no one breathed. Everything was still. Then Miss Holi spoke.

“I think I have to.”

Panic overtook him. He stared at her through blurry eyes, then ran. 

He ran. He ran as fast as he could. Through the door, through the halls, through the things he couldn’t see. His breaths were short, and he felt tears on his face. He ran. He felt his body fall into, through, a door, and only then realised that he had ran to the bathroom on instinct. He stumbled forwards blindly until he reached what he was looking for. He locked the bathroom stall behind him, and pulled his knees up to his chest. He wailed. He sobbed and he wailed and he hiccuped until he ran out of tears. Until his throat was sore and his face was stained with the trails of tears and a small amount of snot had escaped his nose.

He cleaned himself up a little, wiping his eyes and his nose with his sleeve. Then continued to cry.

Rod was exhausted. He clung to his legs, and rested his head on his knees. He’d had enough. He was so tired. 

He wanted to sleep. Forever.


	8. Day 27, 2nd Month of Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For better or worse, he's making his choice.

Rod had ran away.

Not quite in the traditional sense, of running from home, but he had ran away. He’d run from the academy, taking his things with him, and into the city, into the entertainment sector where he had stuck around. He’d been sitting here for hours, staring into the Iacon river. Thinking.

He’d gotten a strawberry milkshake, his favourite, in an attempt to comfort himself. His hoodie was up to hide him from the world. He was cold, but somehow it didn’t compare to the chill inside. 

The river churned with the winter weather, and Rod watched it with envy, as if somehow he could churn yet remain so peaceful. It was still clean, but opaque from the whites of the rushing waves. His fingers trembled in their grip over the milkshake, and he found he could not blink. He merely stared, blank. Lost.

The roar of the rivers movement was a beacon. A beckoning hand, a welcoming promise. 

His mother would be so disappointed in him.

His hoodie threatened to fall back from the current of air, and with the cold it brought to his face, he was surprised to find himself so close to the edge. The rails came up to his waist. They were cold to the touch and Rod smiled, though he didn’t know how genuine it was. No one would face him. Not that he wanted them to, not anymore. Let them watch, let them stare. Let them release him as white horses hold him down, and the air is stolen from his lungs by hungry torrents. Let him move with the tide, let him go. 

Let him go.

His milkshake was empty, but he realised he must have dropped it for his hands to become free. His hands clutched the rails, and his brain was full of thick, course wool. The water looked so soft in comparison, so welcoming. He wanted to know its touch. He wanted to feel it caress him- rough, and brutal.

He saw red, black, white and yellow out of the corner of his eye. And he whipped his body around faster than he could process.

Rod had called out Deadlock’s name before he realised he had spoken. His heart stopped in his chest as the man turned around. The crimson eyes. They were filled with surprise, but happiness. No one was happy to see him. No one ever wanted to hear him.

But Deadlock did.

“Hot Rod!” He came over, fast, and Rod felt his hands on his shoulders and shivered. Warm. Welcoming. Touch him more, more, _more_ \- “It’s great to see you again! How are you feeling, any better?”

“No,” the honesty came out, and Deadlock smiled softly, in understanding. Not pitying, but sympathetic. Rod drank it in like a dying man. “But it’s better with you here.”

Deadlock didn’t move away. His hands gently rubbed at Rod’s arms and he continued to smile in soft relief. Rod internally rejoiced. “I’m glad I can make you feel better at least. Are you ok?”

“Deadlock why are you talking to- Rodimus?”

Rod flinched. Starscream and the other two Seekers stood just before him. Of course. How else would Deadlock have been able to enter the city? Iacon was tight at the best of times. He must have been some sort of assistant for Starscream, maybe Starscreams dad.

“Hot Rod,” Deadlock corrected, and although Rod couldn’t see his face, the tone implied a harsh stare. “And can we have a moment? I haven’t seen him in about half a season.”

“A-actually, I- I should go.” Rod couldn’t back away, desperate for more of Deadlock’s touch. He pulled his sleeves down, and avoided Starscream’s eyes.

“Oh, again?” Skywarp’s voice was its usual sing-song tone, and Rod risked a quick look to see him smirking. “I heard you already had to run away once today.”

He had. Rod looked down, but to his surprise it was Starscream who came to his defence. 

“And Holi’s a bitch- what else is new?” He scoffed, heels clicking as he walked up to Deadlock and Rod. “It’s fine if you snap every now and then. And if you two wanna hang out, you can come with us to dinner.”

The offer felt like a rope out of the mental pit he was in. He wanted to. He really, really wanted to. “I- I don’t want to intrude…”

“You won’t be.”

He wanted someone near him. Someone to confide in. Starscream was offering it to him, but at what cost? He’d spoken with him before, and that had ended terribly. “I- I don’t have enough to pay for food…”

“I’ve got it.”

Deadlock gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Rod wanted friends. He wanted someone, anyone, to talk to him. To not make him feel so- so. “You- you only ever have the two with you…?”

“Oh please, if you think that’s going to stop us hanging out you’re not as bright as your genetics would indicate.”

Abandoned. “…Ok, if you’re sure.”

Starscream grinned, lighting up like a tree on The Shielding. “Then it’s settled! We’re going to our traditional Iacon diner, but first! A stop off at the arcade games!”

Thundercracker scoffed, following the leader of the trine as he skipped off. “You just want to try and beat the top score on DD.”

“I will defeat ‘Mort’, so help me.”

Rod giggled at the banter, and turned to see Deadlock smiling peacefully at him. His core warmed at the look. No one ever looked at him with such praise. He wanted more. More.

“I’m glad you’re coming with us. Those three are insufferable.”

Rod felt his body relax. He smiled in return, and realised Deadlock had kept a hold of his hand the entire time. This was good. It felt good.

“Me too.”


	9. Day 27, 2nd Month of Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the seekers learn that when Rod isn't anxious he can taste food.

Rod hadn’t been talking to the Seekers for long before they seemed a lot more interested in him than anyone had been before. It had started small; idle touches on the arm, listening in on conversations with Deadlock, but quickly turned to conversation over their favourite games. Their hobbies. Rod’s dislike of archery as a sport. Starscream had not beat the high score on the dance game that the infamous ‘Mort’ held, and insisted they must be a cheater. Thundercracker had a shot at the drums, but had gotten nowhere close to even tenth. Skywarp had fallen off the mechanical bull three times before he convinced Rod to come on with him.

They’d fallen off faster. Deadlock had almost collapsed in laughter. Skywarp insisted it was a fluke. The two of them had about four more goes before Thundercracker insisted he get a turn. He had promptly won the evening, in Rod’s opinion, by standing on the back of the bull and keeping his balance.

It had been fun. Rod had honestly enjoyed his time out. When his stomach began to churn on their way out of the entertainment sector, all four of the group were willing to sit down and help him wait it out. Skywarp had sympathetically rubbed his back, while Thundercracker had watched almost nervously. Deadlock sat with him, holding his hand comfortingly as Starscream stood next to Thundercracker.

“Do you usually have severe stomach pain like this?” TC asked, a gentle expression on his face.

Rod gave Deadlock a shy look, to which he responded to by squeezing his hand reassuringly. They weren’t going to make fun of him, they just wanted to help. Rod fought a blush, though he knew his ears would be tinted. “I… yeah, usually in the morning. Or- well, I don’t really know when it’s gonna come up but when it does…”

“Bile usually follows it?” Starscream leaned in, apparently curious. Rod nodded.

His hair was gently ruffled, and he turned to see Deadlock smiling sympathetically at him. “Sounds like you’ve got a bad case of terror-shakes.”

Rod stared blankly for a moment, confused, before Skywarp leaned in and elaborated with a too-fast voice. “In lower districts you’ll find people have a lot more terms for things that upper districts find ‘taboo’ in some way.”

“Really?”

He nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Deadlock’s referring to a kinda feeling you get before doing something that seems big to you.”

“Usually some kind of job or test,” Deadlock continued. “But if you get them real bad, then you can get them before going outside the house, or even just your room.”

Rod winced, and looked down at his shoes. “Sounds about right.”

“You know, in Earth they call it ‘anxiety’,” Starscream’s voice came out as if he intended it to be condescending, but couldn’t quite manage it. “There’s medication you can take for it- if you know the right people to get it for you.”

Rod stared at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Of course!” Deadlock smiled, rubbing Rod’s knee. “I know a guy who can make some for you if he gets the right stuff. It can cost you a bit but…”

“It’ll make me feel better?” Rod looked to him, hopeful. Meeting Deadlock had been the best thing to happen to him. He felt wonderful just touching him, like a fire in a blizzard warming his very soul.

“It can,” Deadlock gave Rod an apologetic look. “Some meds work, some don’t. It’s a bit of a pick ’n’ mix, but usually you find one that works.”

Rod could get better. He could be happy again, he could be well, he could be awake and alive and not cold all the time, he could breathe, he could- he could move, move out of the dark and the pit he was trapped inside. He could move on.

All because he met Deadlock.

Skywarp giggled, gently- carefully -helping Rod to his feet. “Well, you don’t have to eat when we go to the resturant, or you can take food with you. TC usually does.”

“Their mozzarella bites are good, Warp.”

Deadlock snorted, picking up the bags that the Seekers had dumped on him. Starscream walked on, heels clicking and movements powerful yet graceful. “Well, then we better get there already, or else there won’t be any food left.”

The Seekers walked on ahead by a good distance, though Rod hung behind next to Deadlock. The man smiled at him, and gently took his hand in a soft, yet reassuring grip.

“I’m glad I get to see you again.” he said, just quietly enough that the other three wouldn’t hear. Rod tilted his head in a mix of surprise and confusion.

“You… actually wanted to?”

Deadlock chuckled. “Of course I did. You’re a sweet guy, Hot Rod. I was excited to see you when you called out.”

Rod could cry. He felt so warm. He smiled, a genuine smile that managed even to expose his teeth. He felt alright. This was ok.

“I’m glad too.”

“I’m delighted,” Starscream called out, gaining their attention. “Though not too delighted, as I get to hear your sappiness,” Rod blushed rather violently, but Deadlock merely snorted and ignored the comments. “We’re here, by the way.”

Rod looked up, and felt his jaw drop. “We’re going to Widow’s?”

“Where else?” Skywarp snorted, sauntering through the main entrance. Rod spun around to Deadlock with his eyes wide, who merely shrugged.

“It’s fine. They let me in there so it’s not too awful.”

Rod rubbed his arms. Deadlock was pretty obviously not high class, or even middle class. He would have thought a place as fancy and prestigious as Widow’s wouldn’t have allowed him entry. Other places in Iacon certainly would have. There’d been a big to-do a while ago that resulted in Autobot certified shops having permission to deny people access. But, if Widow’s did, that meant it was fine. Right?

As it turned out it was. Dinner went quite smoothly. Rod decided on a fillet steak and triple fried chips. Deadlock would have gone for ribs, had Thundercracker not insisted he was insane, and ordered ‘parmaham chicken’ for him instead, whatever that was.

Starscream had gotten a burger. According to him it was a precious thing, with cheese from Earth and various vegetables from Paradron. He was quite pleased with the sauce that came with it, but admitted he had no idea what it was. With a bit of convincing from the rest of the group, he allowed Rod to try a small bite.

“What do you think?” Starscream grinned, obviously expecting high praise.

Chewing slowly, Rod savoured the taste before he swallowed. “The strength of the cheese mixes well with the meat- the salt and the almost sweet mix together pleasantly. The additional crunch and freshness of the vegetables add texture to the already wondrous flavour. It refreshes the otherwise potentially overpowering taste. I’m a particular fan of the sauce, though you admitted you don’t know what’s in it I can taste tomato, mustard and… what?”

All four looked at him in apparent awe, and Rod wriggled under the wide eyes.

“That was so cool!” Skywarp leaned in. “Can you always do stuff like that?”

“No, not really,” Rod rubbed his arms. “I usually feel too sick to be able to concentrate on taste or smell.”

Starscream nodded, but then seemed to realise something, leaning forwards with an eyebrow raised. “Wait, usually?”

Rod stared, before making a noise of confirmation, and Starscream’s eyes flicked downwards in dawning realisation. “So, at home? Can I ask why?”

His voice seemed to have changed, somehow. The tone was off, like he was trying to be cautious. The others were silent, and the feeling of the situation felt tense. As if they knew something Rod didn’t. Though he thought he shouldn’t, Rod felt compelled to answer. Being open was a friendship thing… right? “Well… I guess it’s mostly Optimus.”

He thought on the situation, what was really wrong, what set him off; he needed to be careful with his words. “He… shouts a lot. And he gets angry that I’m not… right. For an Autobot. That I’m not dedicated enough. Sometimes I think he thinks I’m a Decepticon…”

“Are you?”

Rod froze. He’d never considered it before. His first instinct was to say no, of course he wasn’t, he was a good Autobot and was loyal to the cause! But, thinking about it more… “I. I don’t know.”

Everyone waited patiently, though they clearly wanted answers. The background noise of the restaurant filling the empty space where Rod thought, and they watched. “I guess. Well, I don’t really agree with them- the Autobots, I mean. They act so, I don’t know, oppressive? It keeps such a stubborn grip, and even the guys at the force seem unsure these days? But no one speaks up, because not being an Autobot is wrong…”

Starscream certainly perked up at that, but it was Deadlock who pressed on. “Really? With the way they act I would have thought the Autobots were completely reassured in their thoughts and actions.”

“But they aren’t,” Rod sighed, flicking one of the chips on his plate. “Only Optim- my dad, seems to think that they’re the best now. Him and the big guys in Iacon. They’re determined to have pure control and keep it that way and it- I don’t know -it freaks me out. I do something wrong and its ‘not like an autobot’, as if that’s the worst thing I can be. And to them it is! Straying from them apparently means I’m an enemy, but I just… I don’t know.”

“So,” Skywarp leaned forwards. “What about the Decepticons?”

Rod groaned. “I don’t know about them either! They seem alright, by nature, but the drugs- they’re illegal! They came after me when I snuck out and I could have been really hurt if Deadlock hadn’t come! And people get killed, and hurt, but would they if the Autobots weren’t so violent back? Would the weapon trade still be about? They don’t want the control the Autobot’s do but is that a really good thing? I don’t know how to feel about this at all. I- I have to be on the Autobot’s side, because I’m. I’m not a Decepticon.”

He groaned, ruffling his own hair a bit. “I don’t know! No one seems to be right anymore. I don’t know who I agree with. I don’t know whose side to take, and I can’t be neutral. It has to be one or the other!”

“Does it? Do you have to pick a side at all?” Starscream spoke cautiously, and quietly. Just above a whisper. The thought, the concept of not picking a side, stopped Rod dead in his tracks.

Did he have to pick a side? Of course, if someone wasn’t a Bot they were a Con and visa versa. If they lived in Cybertron they either agreed with the Cons or the Bots. No one could pick and choose. It was one or the other for everyone.

“It’s like a dish,” Rod breathed, staring down at his plate. “You can’t pick and choose pieces off the menu. You have to choose one.”

He anticipated a response, but all conversation was halted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out with urgency and felt everything drain from him in an instant.

“It’s your dad isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway, and the group gave him a look of sympathy. His heart pounded, as if his dad had somehow heard him, as if that was why he was calling. “H-hello?”

_“Rodimus. I just got home, and there’s a message here from your teacher saying that you seemed quite unwell in class today. Where are you?”_

Rod began to shake. The winces on the other’s faces let him know Optimus was quite audible. _“_ Iacon. I- I didn’t think it was best to get the train when I-“

_“Doesn’t matter. Who are you with?”_

He’d been about to answer, but frantic hand movements caught his attention. He looked up, and the table mouthed one thing in unison at him.

_‘Lie.’_

“No one. I’m here alone.”

He hadn’t thought about it. But they all seemed relieved by the action. Optimus hummed over the phone, then continued. _“Come home.”_ Rod winced at the ferocity the command was said with. _“Did you eat while you were out?”_

“Yes.”

He heard Optimus huff on the other side of the phone, and winced. Of course he’d mess up. The others must hate him now; he probably looked so stupid to them. He didn’t want to go. But they’d probably want him gone anyway, he wasn’t good company. He’d done nothing but leach off them for the afternoon.

_“Just come home.”_

Optimus hung up. Immediately Deadlock came to Rod’s side, hands carefully placing themselves on his choulders. “You alright?”

Rod could have flinched. But instead sighed, the shakiness of the breath giving away his growing anxiety. “Yeah, yeah, I just- I gotta go.”

Thundercracker smiled. And Rod resisted a shiver as the look sent reassurance and calm right into him. “It’s alright, we know what your dad’s like. We’ve got the tab. See you at the Academy tomorrow?”

Something about the way they looked at him made Rod feel alright. He looked into Deadlock’s red eyes, saw concern, and instantly relaxed. They cared. They weren’t upset. He was ok.

“Yeah.” He sounded calm. He wasn’t sure if that was normal or not. “See you tomorrow.”


	10. Day 28, 2nd Month of Autumn, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, but Rod remembers he's uhhh depressed.

Rod hadn’t wanted to come into the Academy today. He was on time, but he dreaded facing the others in his class after his outburst. He felt like he should apologise, but he knew he’d do something wrong as usual. 

Although, when he thought about it, yesterday had gone alright. He felt better knowing he potentially had three more friends than Blurr and his cousin. Even though previously, when Starscream had been tutoring him, they hadn’t got on at all. He supposed Starscream thought maybe he was acting up, that he wasn’t stupid, even though to himself he so clearly was. Even if they didn’t really want to be seen with him in public, it was better than being alone. 

Starscream didn’t mind him texting now, asking for help on personal matters or otherwise. Thundercracker sent him pictures of his dog whenever she did something cute. Skywarp had a tendency to send a cryptic series of texts then a selfie outside Rod’s classroom. It felt a lot better than silence- silence he usually got from Blurr and Bee.

He liked the pictures of the dog, Buster, best. She was an excitable little thing- looked like a cross between a labrador and a beagle. Although he had no real idea about her breed and only had general knowledge to go on. But she was certainly excitable.

Due to the fact he was currently staring at a picture of Buster, Rod wasn’t really paying attention, so when someone ran headfirst into him he wasn’t surprised, but he felt a little bit guilty over it. He caught himself, and on seeing the face of the person he’d run into, felt like he’d been knocked off his feet again.

“Blurr?”

“Ah! Rod! I’m sorry, sorry,” Blurr immediately apologised, speaking a bit too fast for Rod to actually understand, but slowed down soon enough. “About your car, about leaving, about everything, I was caught by Longarm- you know Longarm?”

Rod nodded. He knew about the Autobot Intelligence master of UDTA. He had been quite the upstart when Sentinel was in charge, from what he’d heard. Optimus had claimed him to be one of the best, and he was shocked he wasn't in Iacon. 

Blurr continued. “Yeah I got caught by him, and then I had to work extra hours to prove I was still a dedicated Autobot.”

Rod blinked. Blurr worked after Academy hours anyway. He did shooting practice on Mondays with Rod, Tuesdays he did athletics with Bee, and he didn’t really know what he did the rest of the week but he did know he worked on weekends too. “Extra hours?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working in filing and helping Arcee, stuff like that.”

‘Dedicated Autobot’. Rod had been at the race too. He’d been with the Seekers. With Deadlock. He was worse than Blurr was when it came to loyalty, he was a lot more disloyal from the face of it. If Optimus knew, if anyone knew. If anyone said a word…

Longarm knew. Longarm had to have recognised Rod’s car. And then he had to have known he’d been in trouble with Optimus recently. 

Rod shook under the haunting fear. His entire fate hung in the balance by a frayed rope. Blurr had gotten in trouble for being at a race. What would happen to Rod? Fraternising with Decepticons. Optimus had already expressed dislike to the Seekers.

Longarm was loyal. He was a good Autobot, who did his job well if Optimus’ praises meant anything. There was no way he’d keep Rodimus’ inclusion a secret. 

“Roddie? Are you ok?” Blurr broke him out of his trance. Rod’s neck snapped up to look at his face. “You look pale. Did you skip breakfast again?”

Rod hadn’t eaten breakfast in years. It made him feel sicker, and right now, he was particularly glad for the fact he didn’t. He would have vomited over Blurr’s blue trainers. He was already in trouble with the academy again, but now this? This whole mess? The Seekers, Deadlock, the race… This guaranteed his fate was sealed. To what, he didn’t know just yet, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. What if he was kicked out? Imprisoned? Optimus could disown him. What would happen then? He’d heard it’d happened years back- some rich kid got disowned by his family for hanging out with a kid from Kaon. 

With that scenario in mind, it was a miracle the academy had let him stay for as long as they did. If Rod was thrown out of the Academy and his home, he’d have nowhere to go. And he wouldn’t be able to stay in the Academy for much longer.

He’d be better off dead.

“Yeah,” Rodimus croaked. “Don’t worry though, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it…” Blurr spoke softly, and a hand cautiously reached out, as if he was afraid of Rod running away. “Maybe you should, you know, stay off today?”

“No.”

Rod felt his heart pound in his chest, and he shook as he stared at Blurr’s shoes. What if he was under watch? What if Blurr was in on it? If he was working for Longarm then he might be- and then there was Bee, so Rod couldn’t be seen with anyone, he wouldn’t be able to- 

“Roddie, you’re breathing really heavily.”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Rod shoved him aside. B athroom. He had to get to the bathroom, before he was sick, before he passed out, started crying; whatever was about to happen he couldn’t let anyone see it. Blurr stumbled back from the push, but Rod didn’t pause. He couldn’t. He didn’t have time. “I have to go.”

“Roddie!” Blurr called after him, though Rod barely heard a thing. His head hurt. There was static in his ears. His head hit something, but he kept moving, barely aware if he was even hurt. “Roddie you’ll fall over! I’m sorry, Rod, please come back!”

He had to get out. There were cameras in the hallway. Blurr was watching him. Everyone was watching him. He scratched at his neck, as if there was already a noose around it. Bathroom. Get to the bathroom. No one could follow him into the stalls, it was safe in there. He had to go. Go. Run, run, run run run.

“Rodimus!”

Rod slammed the door behind him. He choked on his breath, and gasped for air he desperately needed. He curled up on the floor, eyes blurry as he sobbed. Each noise rough, like a sharp cough. He sniffled, head pounding and teeth rattling like they were full of bees, covering the sound of Blurr knocking on the door a few times before he gave up and left.

He was dead, Rod realised as he covered his face in his hands. He was so, unavoidably dead.


	11. Day 3, 1st Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Bee's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be away until Monday, so won't be replying to comments or the like before then. Sorry :c

Rod was tired. 

He realised as such when it occurred to him he’d been picking out cracks and lines in the ceiling, staring at it for hours. The colour told him it wasn’t his room. Seeing as he hadn’t been paying attention to anything for at least an hour, it probably made sense that he’d forgotten where he was.

He didn’t know when Optimus had dropped him off at his uncle’s. Slowly, he sat up. Bee’s room, he remembered, not by the fact Bee was in it, in front of him typing something up on the computer, but by the countless awards and trophies lining the walls and bookcases. Science, maths, martial arts competitions, shooting, cycling, swimming. Bumblebee’s talents were astounding, especially for someone who had been adopted by Jazz and Magnus, not born to them.

Rod felt his soul drop into his stomach and a tightness cling to his throat. Bee’s entire room, all his achievements, worked as a reminder that there was no way he could ever gain the approval of his parents. He couldn’t even scrape at Bumblebee’s abilities.

“Oh so you’re awake now?” Bee snorted, and Rod bristled at the aggression. “I asked you a question like half an hour ago.”

“I didn’t hear.” He hadn’t. But it didn’t mean he wanted to answer. Whatever it was, he was sure he didn’t want to talk about it.

“I asked if you’d done all your work already.”

“Yes.” Rod was all too happy for it to end there, but Bee turned around in his chair to face him. 

“Did you check through it? I heard that you-“

“People have heard a lot of things about me,” Rod snapped. He knew what everyone thought of him. He knew what Bee meant. “No one cares about it Bee, drop it.”

He didn’t need another person lying to him. He didn’t need anyone else telling him he wasn’t good enough. Everyone already did that.

Red eyes and dyed hair flashed in his vision, and he felt himself internally retract that last statement. Almost everyone.

Bumblebee huffed. “Rod, come on, I was just asking.”

“Well you shouldn’t have.”

Bumblebee was very obviously about to say something, when Jazz poked his head around the doorframe, a playful yet stern look on his face. “Hey hey, you two better not be arguing in here.”

“We’re not arguing dad, don’t worry,” Bee turned back to his work, though he gave Rod a fleeting look. “Rodimus is just being difficult.”

Rodimus. Rod held back a snarl, swallowing down bitterness. That name wasn’t right- it wasn’t his. ‘Rodimus’ was always ‘difficult’. It was always his fault, nothing he ever did right was good by anyone. Nothing was the right choice. Rod glared at Bee’s back. He didn’t ask to be here. He didn’t want to have to deal with this, he’d much rather be at home.

Or with Deadlock.

“Don’t glare at my kid Spice. No one gets away with that,” Jazz grinned, regardless of what he was saying. He walked in to playfully ruffle Rod’s hair, seemingly unbothered when his hand was smacked away. “I’ll set the big guy on you, and then we’ll see who’s glaring.”

“You could do more damage than Uncle Magnus ever could,” Rod retorted, throwing himself back down onto the bed.

“It was an act of mercy,” Jazz laughed, poking him in the shoulder. “Don’t get comfortable just yet-“ as if Rod could be comfortable. “The twins are asking after ya.”

Rod gave Jazz a bitter look. “Why?” There wasn’t any reason for them to be mad at him yet. They were too young.

“They want your help on some maths stuff.”

Rod snorted, then looked back to the wall. “They’re better off asking Bee.”

They were, it was the truth. Rod wasn’t smart. He couldn’t help them on anything. He was useless. One big, super good for nothing. A dud. Why would they ever ask him anything? He couldn’t give the right answer. Even in basic maths.

“Hm,” Jazz gave him a gentle prod. “Still. They want you none the less. Come on- you’ll only get bored laying here.”

He’d rather be bored, Rod thought. He was a bad influence. He was disgusting. He was terrible. Why would they want him here? But he followed Jazz out of Bee’s room none the less, down the hall and down the stairs. Rodimus felt his eyes clinging to the pictures of a happy family on the walls. Bee smiling, Jazz and Magnus together, the twins with their toys, a picnic, birthday parties. Happy, together. More than Rod would ever have. A clean and comfortable home. Happy.

Rod paused mid step, hand tightening on the stair railing.

Comfortable and happy. He looked at his hands, as if they would give answers to the sudden thumping in his chest, the beating drum in his skull. 

Comfortable and happy.

“Rodimus?”

“C-coming, sorry.” He rushed down the rest of the steps, following his uncle into the front room where the kids were waiting. He had barely a few seconds before the two jumped onto him, nearly knocking him over. Jetfire in his left arm, Jetstorm in his right. He let them squeal and snuggle him, though he felt the watchful eye of Magnus staring at him.

“Roddie Roddie! We were hearing about your coming; we are being very excited!” Jetstorm stared excitedly up at him with wide blue eyes, though whether they were Jazz’s eyes or Magnus’s Rod would never know. He could never look them in the eye. “We are hoping that you will be able to assist us in our works!!”

The twins always spoke like that. Jazz and Magnus had given up trying to fix their strange way of speaking. Rod didn’t really see a problem with it though. It wasn’t gibberish- just a little jumbled on the syntax. Rod laughed weakly in return. “I hope you weren’t looking for a miracle. You should have asked your brother. He’s way smarter than I am.”

“The maths is a hard,” Jetstorm started, and Jetfire continued. “You are not busy brother, you are a good at maths!”

“Busy or not, he’s still better,” Rod sighed as they dragged him to the desk of papers. “Fractions huh?”

They were pretty simple as far as Rod was concerned. So why wouldn’t they ask Jazz? Or Magnus? Even if Bee was busy, they were available. And they were so much more intelligent than him. They were better than him. He squinted at them, almost suspiciously. “You’re messing with me aren’t you?”

“Nooooo!!” Jetstorm pouted, while Jetfire jumped forwards to speal. “Roddie makes things easier!!”

Like he could ever believe a statement like that. He cringed. All he’d done was make things worse. Optimus was furious with him. He’d made Blurr’s life harder. All those weeks ago, he’d made Prowl’s life harder when his father had dragged him into the Tarn HQ. He made classes harder to teach in the academy. Everyone had a hard time because of him, because he was around. Nothing he did made anything easier.

He heard the telling intake of breath behind him, and he braced for whatever was about to be said.

“Rodimus rarely makes anything easier,” Magnus’ voice was monotone. Almost heavy in the air. “I don’t know what you two see in him.”

He knew it was true. It was honest. It was true. It still felt like a punch to the throat. There were a few seconds of awkward silence, before he laughed through a tight throat. “Oh don’t I know it. They must be the only people who don’t see me how everyone else does!” He laughed, feeling bile bubble in his chest, his throat. He knew he was sweating, and that his eyes were wide with something unspoken. His hands twitched and the feeling itched under his flesh. “A horrific disappointment! A failure!”

Jazz laughed, though Rod could tell it was somewhat strained. He wanted to scream. He felt fear. He shook and he suddenly realised it was difficult to breathe. “Come off it you two. Don’t be such a… meanie Magnus. No one sees you like that Roddie.”

“Of course they do!” Rod laughed again, and he noticed the twins stared at him with a feeling akin to fear. His head buzzed. _Don’t,_ he thought. _Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me like that, like I’m-_ “I see myself like that, and who wouldn’t? Don’t you know? Everyone thinks of me like that! I’m disgusting to them!”

Jazz moved in his peripheral, and Magnus stood behind him. His nails dug into his arms. “Roddie, come on now, really,” Jazz spoke quietly, nervous. “Why… why do you think like that?”

“Cause everything’s wrong with me, obviously!” There was a bubble- in his throat, in his chest, and it built until it burst. He wheezed in laughter, shaking. Gasping for air. “I can’t do anything right! I can’t be what I’m supposed to; I’m just an embarrassment! A big mistake!”

Jazz moved closer, Rod backed away. His back hit the wall, and Jazz stared at him apprehensively. “…Roddie?”

“You know, I’ve been really thinking about it!” What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just stop? “Maybe I should do the one thing that would make everyone proud of me! Get rid of the evidence, of the living proof that two rights don’t make something better! Good for nothing! Useless! Worthless stupid-!!”

Someone cleared their throat, breaking his train of thought. Shaking, coughing, Rod gasped as he caught his breath. Then he turned, to laugh again. “Oh. Hey. Bee. You came to join?”

“I,” Bee paused. “Um. Actually I- uh.”

“I’m sure you came down to see how dinner was going, yeah?” Jazz said, rushing over and gently manoeuvring his son to the kitchen. “Magnus! Why don’t you come help me? We can get things done quicker that way! Kids, you… you stay put.”

He didn’t say why. Rod stared after them, though Jazz gave him a worried look as they left the room, leaving Rod alone with the twins, who looked up to Rod with nervous smiles. “R-Roddie?”

“Yeah?”

“You… you were the joking? Yes?”

He paused. He stared. He smiled. “Of course.”

They didn’t believe him. He knew they didn’t believe him. He knew it. But he helped them with their homework. Fractions. Easy stuff. The two caught on quickly once he got the gist of it to them. He didn’t give much thought to it, instead his thoughts geared more towards the older group. Why had they left? What were they really doing in the kitchen? They must have been talking about him. It made sense. Why else would they have left the twins behind.

Jazz poked his head around the corner, then whistled with a giggle. “How are you guys doing?”

Rod stayed silent, until Jazz came closer. He peered over Rod’s shoulder. He hummed, seemingly impressed. Rod’s heartbeat finally began to slow.

“You kids are faster than Soundwave at this stuff.”

Rod paused. Looking up, but no higher than Jazz’s neck. “Who’s Soundwave?”

He’d never heard the name before, and from the way Jazz tensed, he got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to. 

“No one, don’t worry about it.” Jazz’s voice seemed cold. He’d done something wrong. Rod stood suddenly, swallowing hard. 

“I- Have to go.”

He lost time, space, between the living room and the bathroom. He shook, half curled up on the toilet seat. Rod looked up, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked ill. He felt ill.

He didn’t dare ask any other questions that night.


	12. Day 5, 1st Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're almost up to Winter Break. I'm totally not losing track of time passing by the way.  
> There is some stuff about drugs and Rod not eating and stuff but I don't think it needs too much of a warning.

During the start of Winter, the Academy often filled with students clamouring in the cafe for hot chocolate. The Earth beverage had been quite popular, though Rod had heard tell of arguments regarding its making. It didn’t matter much to him, the burn of the cocoa hit his senses like a punch, and the milk tended to curdle in his throat. He knew this because Bee had offered him some once. Rod was cursed.

He’d also lost weight. He could feel the cold gnaw on his flesh because of it, nipping and biting at skin and bone alike. His breath hung in the air before fading to nothing, and Rod felt a moment of jealousy before he realised how stupid it was to be jealous of air. His bones ached, and the chill crept up his spine from being on the ground under his tree. Just like how he usually ate lunch.

He almost jumped out of his skin when Blurr and Bee came from the doors that lead to the cafeteria. Bee waved as they approached, carefully, given the cup in his hand. Blurr followed. He didn’t look at Rod.

“You want some?” Bee offered. The smell of chocolate sent Rod’s stomach churning, and his throat clogged; Rod realised he was about to be sick.

“No, no I’m fine. I’m not hungry. Or thirsty.”

Blurr looked at Bee with tight lips and half glaring eyes, as if to say ‘I told you so’, before flopping on the grass with a melodramatic sigh. “It’s like you never eat anymore Roddie, I swear, you’ll be skinnier than I am soon.”

Rod considered that would be an achievement, given how Blurr’s body looked. He couldn’t say much for his chest, with the binder and all, but he’d seen the other teen’s body enough to know that he must have weighed less than a hundred pounds. And considering his height, that was more to be worried of than Rod’s weight. Rod was shorter anyway.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Bee scoffed, sitting rather gracefully. His nails picked at the plastic of the coffee cup, sharing a nervous look with Blurr before speaking again. “But, uh, I do admit it is a bit worrying. Blurr eats, but you… I never see you eat anymore, even when you were at my house the other day. You said you felt-“

“Sick.” Rod finished. He pulled his knees in close, tearing dying grass out of the soil. “I felt sick, Bee. It wasn’t gonna stay down.”

It wasn’t far from the truth. He had felt sick, but these days when did he not? When was he not cursed with the fate of a churning stomach, of laying down and breathing heavily? It felt like he’d never recover. 

Blurr looked between them, awkward. Seemed he had nothing to say.

“I don’t see you eat here, I don’t think you eat at home, and when you’re with me and my dads you don’t. Is it really just sickness?”

Rod squirmed. “Yeah- of course it’s just sickness. I’m just ill.”

Bee glared, fingertips scratching a little more persistently against the sides of his hot chocolate. “You can’t be sick all the time! But somehow you are, and it doesn’t make sense! Not unless something is wrong with you!”

Rod flinched. There was. He knew there was and now they did too. “B-But…”

“But nothing!” Bumblebee huffed. Plastic snapped under his fingertips. “You _always_ say that you’re sick! I’ve heard you in the bathroom, you never keep it down, so I know you’re telling the truth, but I don’t want to take it as an answer- it’s your only answer! It’s always that you’re feeling sick, you’re not hungry, you’re not feeling like it!”

Blurr’s free hand went to cover Bee’s lips, and Rod shrunk under his voice. Bee sounded like Jazz. He sounded like Optimus. Furious, but in the dangerous way that they’d blame it on him for not being honest. For making them upset. It was always his fault; he was always the one to blame. 

Bee slapped Blurr’s hand away.

“Do you eat? You don’t look like it! You look starved, you look tired! You’re almost always shaking, and I heard what happened in your class a few weeks back!” Bee looked like he could start crying, and Rod withered under the notion. Of course he would make Bee cry. “I’ve said before something’s wrong if you need to sneak around your dad! Is something wrong, Roddie? Is- is there something, anything we can help with?”

Rod backed up against the tree, feeling bark dig into his spine. He avoided looking at Bee at almost any cost. He didn’t dare look at Blurr. 

“Roddie, please, we’re worried! My parents think you’re on bitters!”

“Bitters?!” Rod snapped, looking past Bee despite his offence. “They think I’m taking drugs?”

“Your dad does too!” Bee frowned, and Rod ignored the tears clearly visible in his eyes. “It matches up!”

“Paranoia, anxiety, bad trips, missing class,” Blurr listed off, hesitantly. “Reckless behaviour, lack of appetite, weight loss, insomnia.”

“All of those are completely coincidental!” Rod looked between them both, though still avoiding their eyes. The chill in his bones now not entirely from the weather alone. “You both know- I don’t take that stuff! Don’t you?”

The silence was more telling than the looks they shared, and Blurr took a few shaky intakes of air before speaking. “We… we don’t know what to think Roddie… I’m- I’m sorry.”

Rod clung to his own arms, nails scraping at the flesh of his neck. He felt sicker now than before, with no way to defend himself, and no excuses left to cover what was really happening.

“I…” He started, trying to think of a way out. As if there wasn’t an exit he’d already tried. “I’ll tell you. I’m. I’m not taking drugs but. But I… I can’t tell you everything, it’s just…”

He cut himself off, despite the look of desperation on his friend’s faces. They wanted answers- answers that for once in their lives they didn’t have. For once, he was the one who knew. And he couldn’t tell them.

Red eyes and black hair caught his attention.

“Starscream!”

“Roddie, wait!”

He’d ran to Starscream and the rest of his trine, he ran faster than he thought his body would allow. He made desperate eye contact with the red eyes he had somehow grew to trust. He had felt Bee attempt to grab hold of his leg, but he couldn’t stop. He needed someone who understood, someone who wouldn’t tell his dad, someone safe. And even if that wasn’t Starscream himself, he had access to someone who was.

“Rod! Good to see you,” Starscream jolted in surprise, one hand hovering over Rod’s shoulder. “You… you alright?”

“Deadlock,” Rod spouted, and flushed. He’d been so centered, so focused on what he felt he needed he hadn’t thought about the actual act of talking to another person. “I- I mean, uh…”

Skywarp giggled, waving a hand as he leant over Thundercracker’s shoulder. Much to the second Seekers annoyance. “Don’t worry, we know what you mean. It’s good to see you still kicking.”

“Th-thanks,” Rod stuttered, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, I- I just, I was-“

“We told you, it’s fine,” Starscream chuckled, ruffling Rod’s already messy hair. “Whatcha need?”

“I need you to set up a da- a meeting? Between us.” H e gave the seeker the most pleading look he could manage. “I need- want -to talk to him. I need to know, I need to think and I can’t do that here, with them.”

Starscream nodded slowly in understanding. “You still have my number?”

Rod winced. “My… my dad made me delete it. He said I shouldn’t be in contact with you but, but him finding about Deadlock would be worse. He said- said that you’re just suspected as a ‘con, if he knew…”

Thundercracker gave a low whistle. “Damn, that’s harsh.”

Starscream waved him off with elegant fingers and a roll of his eyes. “It’s fine, I got it. Put me down as ‘Skandalist'. If someone asks, I’m still your tutor, yeah?”

Rod gave him a shaky grin and a grateful nod. “Yeah, yeah I- thank you, thank you. So much.”

“It’s ok,” his expression turned sympathetic, and he gently took Rod’s hand. “I’ve got it.”

It took a bit more convincing to get Rod to return to his friends, where they stood about a meter and a half away from their tree, apparently having half waited and half followed. Unsure what to do in the situation. He flinched, and went back to his ‘seat’, waiting awkwardly while Bee’s eyes narrowed venomously.

“What was that about, _Roddie_?”

Rod swallowed, took in a deep breath, and looked away. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

“It’s a dealership isn’t it,” Bee snapped, hissing the accusation through clenched teeth. “You’re getting stuff from him, whatever it is.”

“I’m not on drugs!” Rod yelled back. He could have sworn he saw red, before Bee’s look of horror hit him. But he couldn’t stop. “What’s happening is none of your business! Keep your creepy sneaky spy shit to yourself, and stay out of my way!”

Blurr gasped, Bee gaped, and Rod grabbed his bags and ran. He’d run out of lies, out of time. He didn’t know what to do, how to handle something this dangerous. This wasn’t the Autobot thing to do. But neither was lying, not believing in their morals, not knowing what to do. And Rod didn’t know anything.

Rod ran. Like so many times before, he ran. And his two friends watched him run away, both of them horrified, and scared for what this meant for Rodimus Pax.

 

—

Starscream whined pitifully as he threw himself down onto his bed, and whined louder as Skywarp wrapped him up like he was a burrito. 

“Don’t do that Warp, I’m dirty. I don’t wanna clean the bed before I sleep tonight.”

Skywarp laughed, and laid on top of the Starscream burrito until Thundercracker came in and unceremoniously shoved him off. Skywarp yelled in faux distress, play fighting when the tables were turned and he was the one burritoed.

“Traitors!” he gasped, flopping around in his ‘defeat’. “I shall see you hanged!”

Thundercracker tilted his head with a small smile. “Isn’t it just hang?”

“I’ll see you dangle no matter what tense it is.” Skywarp pouted. Starscream snorted, taking off his shirt and jeans in favour of some sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

“And I’ll see you choke if you don’t take your binder off,” Starscream prodded Warp in the chest, electing another yell which resembled that of a goat. “Come on, I can already hear you wheezing.”

Skywarp stuck his tongue out, but obliged, wiggling out of the burrito and throwing his balled up binder at Starscream’s head, only to be disappointed once more when he caught it.

“You’re insufferable and also mean to meeee,” Skywarp whined, burying his face in Starscream’s pillows. “I’m taking your bed as retribution.”

“And I’ll take your head.” 

Skywarp made a small ‘ohf’ sound as a spare shirt landed on his back. Thundercracker snorted from where he’d happily sat in a beanbag, still the one most dressed and apparently content to watch the two bicker. Starscream took out his red contacts, and Skywarp took his hair out its ponytail. He leaned back against the groups ‘leader’, who tried to run his fingers through Skywarp’s hair, and got fingers poking at his face in return. Thundercracker thought it was cute.

Once they’d sorted themselves out, Starscream against the bed board and Skywarp between his legs and both of them wrapped in blankets, Thundercracker moved his beanbag closer.

“So,” he started. “Rodimus Pax.”

“Is a dangerous endeavour. But he wants to see Deadlock, and I know Deadlock wants to see him again. It’s worth the attempt, to help get our plans to pass.”

“There’s a ‘but’ in that sentence.”

Starscream glared at thundercracker venomously. “There a ‘butt’ in here too. I was getting to it.”

“Oohh, buuurn,” came Warp’s helpful addition. They ignored him.

“But, I also know how Deadlock feels about hanging around the son of Optimus Prime. He doesn’t work for my dad because of the pay, after all. I don’t want to disappoint Rod if he says no.”

Thundercracker raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on folded arms against the mattress. “Why not? And does that mean you’re not gonna call him?”

“Of course I’m going to call him!” He reached over, grabbing his phone and muttering bitterly as he scrolled through his contacts. “I don’t want to disappoint Rod because our little Lockie isn’t who people think he is. He’s unsure. He won’t look people in the eye, he shakes when you touch him. And you heard about what happened the other day, that’s inches off a full mental breakdown!” He glared, typing out a message to Deadlock. “Something’s in his head. It’s shook him up. He doesn’t believe in the Autobot cause and he can’t say that because of who he is. His actions make me think he’s said it before, but I can only guess the reactions were…”

Warp lifted his hands up to hold Starscream’s face. “What’re you thinking?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like this is close to home for him. It’s not just internal, it’s external. He…” He paused for a moment, then spoke a little quieter. “Have you ever seen him with any… bruises?”

They all fell silent. The implications of what Starscream had just asked sinking in.

“I… can’t say I have,” Skywarp spoke using the same weak tone. This was dangerous ground. “But he’s always wearing long sleeved hoodies and shirts.”

“Even in the summer,” Thundercracker added nervously, head lifting from the mattress. “He’s late in the mornings, he hides in the bathroom, and we all know he’s not taking anything. He… Star… You don’t think- like, really think he-“

Thundercracker was interrupted by the urgent buzz of Starscream’s phone. The trine looked to it, taken off guard, it was Deadlock. Starscream picked it up with notable relief. “Hello?”

“ _Yeah- uh, hi Starscream. You said you wanted to talk to me about something?_ ”

Deadlock seemed irritated, given by the short snappy tone he was using, so Star immediately cut to the chase.  “Yeah. Rod asked me if you were available to see him at some point- he wants to see you again. Apparently he really likes spending time with you.”

“ _Really?_ ”  Excitement. Bingo.  “ _I- yes! Yes, I would like to see him again! I_ ’ _m, I think I_ ’ _m free on this Saturday. Should you message him or- I don_ ’ _t have his number, do you?_ ”

"Yes, I'll tell him you' re free Saturday and I'll ask him details. I'll organise for the both of you, you don't have to worry about a thing."

“ _Wait, is this a prank?_ ”  Starscream immediately went to oppose it, but Deadlock continued.  “ _And if it isn_ ’ _t, how much am I gonna owe you for this?_ ”

“It’s for Rodimus,” he said bluntly. There was a pause, Deadlock having fallen silent, so he continued to fill in the gaps.  “He’s been having a rough time lately, and me, Warp, and TC are worried about him. He really, really likes you. We thought it’d be nice for him.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yes. ”

Deadlock huffed on the other end of the phone. There was a brief silence before he spoke again.

“ _Alright. But if you mess me around, I_ _’_ _m telling your dad that you were fucking with my work hours. And you know how he_ _'_ _ll get about that._ ”

Starscream gave an exaggerated moan. His father was uncomfortably pedantic about schedules,likely due to his assistant and secretary. Or maybe thanks to the multiple businesses he ran. Either way, it meant retribution for Starscream if he ever scrambled with them for personal reasons. “Not a chance. Last time was Pit enough, thanks. I’ll text you the details later.”

_“Alright, I’ll be waiting.”_

They said their goodbyes and Starscream immediately started texting Rod; _‘hey roddie- is it cool for me to call? got some news on the date xx’, before_ continuing his conversation with the other seekers.  “He changes in a separate room for phys ed, doesn’t he?”

“I think so,”  Thundercracker’s voice was low, thoughtful.  “I can’t say I’ve ever seen more of his skin that isn’t his hands or face. He doesn’t usually have lunch on him either, does he? ”

“We know he struggles to eat, but he was quite happy to eat with us,”  Skywarp added.  “But he is usually taking scraps from his cousin, and his friend.”

They looked at Starscream, who gave a shaky breath as he answered the question all on their minds.

“The academy wouldn’t do anything to a police chief if he was doing something wrong. Not until the public spoke up over it. And with Rodimus’s  reputation, it wouldn’t surprise me if people took his dad’s side over his. I didn’t realise he wasn’t faking or being lazy until I tutored him, after all. In such a corrupt state Iacon is, I think they’d use it as a prime example of  ‘disciplining the Decepticon’  out of him.”

They were all silent. It was true. Cover-ups happened all the time for things like these. The anti-Decepticon ideology was so strong in the society they lived in, it could be used as an excuse for almost anything. Every case, every court session dragged on, the negativity caused by the ideology dwelling on their morals until they were sure as a collective it would burst, and solve itself. But it didn ’ t. It never did for people like Rod.

Starscream’s phone buzzed, and with a few seconds passing where he confirmed it was safe, lifted it to his ear, waiting for Rod to pick up.  “Roddie? Yeah, hey, it’s Starscream. I told you I’d be calling? Well, I’ve got good news about the date.”


	13. Day 8, 1st Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a date, babe.

If you asked Rod, Upper District Helex, even being Upper District, was still pretty pushed for taste.

Rod wasn’t able to point out a unique design in the houses, the roads, the gardens, if he put his mind to it, despite Helex in general being the main area of manufacture in all of Cybertron, and containing the main trade city of Tyrest. Even though Tyrest was Lower District Helex, surely it had no excuse for all its surrounding areas to be inches off rotting.

Not that he particularly minded all that. 

What really worried him was being in an area he had never been in before. Upper District Helex wasn’t as terrifying as Lower District Helex would be- or at least, how Rod imagined it would be -but it not being as scary as it could be didn’t stop the area actually being intimidating. He’d come down on the train, with the discovery that his student ticket allowed him anywhere so long as he was legally permitted to enter it. Starscream had told him over the phone while simultaneously trying to calm him down from a panic attack.

Starscream had been very kind to Rod since they’d talked in Iacon. The friendliness surprised him, especially with how his own friends tended to treat him. He stood in the station, one arm crossed over his chest as he waited for Deadlock to arrive. Blurr hadn’t spoken to him much since the race, even though he’d said- he’d _promised_ -that they would. But he supposed it was fair. It wasn't like he’d been a good friend, constantly asking for help. Pestering, bothering, whining. It must really have gotten on Blurr’s nerves though, for this; for the ignoring, the refusal, to happen. And of course,Bee was the same, except he’d had to put up with Rod and all his terrible crap since…

Rod paused his thoughts for a moment. When had Jazz and Magnus adopted Bee, anyway? He remembered when they’d been introduced, because Bee had commented on his hair and Rod had cried. It’d taken Elita about ten minutes to calm him down enough to talk to Bee again. He knew that had happened somewhere in Autumn, when he was about seven. But other than that, he had no idea.

But that much did tell him Bee had dealt with him for about eleven years. Rod winced. It was a miracle he’d lasted so long. Or maybe Jazz and Magnus pressured him to stay. But then again, Magnus certainly didn’t like him, so he had no real reason to insist on their friendship. He seemed to have a particular hatred towards Rod- as if something he had done had started all wrongs in the world. Or, maybe, like everyone else, he assumed Rod wasn’t trying hard enough.

Starscream didn’t like Rod either; Rod knew that. The other teen was remarkably intelligent, powerful, confident, and overall nothing like Rod. Sometimes he wondered if Starscream would make a better son for Optimus.

He saw Deadlock as he entered the station. His colours stood out, loud and passionate against the monotone stone, the Decepticon drew eyes like bees to flowers, like moths to light, and Rod found him a white dwarf in a dull sky. Rod ran enthusiastically, feeling his very world brighten up, his chest fill with a feeling alike to melted marshmallows. And that moment he realised he was absolutely smitten.

The realisation should have scared him, should have sent his pulse through the roof, he should have felt his stomach drop, he should have choked. But he didn’t. Instead he embraced himself in Deadlock’s waiting arms, taking in his smell. Like burning lavender and pollution. Like metal sticking to him like tar and staining him like blood.

He found himself suddenly very embarrassed, as he’d been both being extremely dramatic and holding on for too long. ‘White dwarf in a dull sky’. Seriously? 

Rod jumped back, though the loss of the warmth of another person close to him stung, worse than lemon juice in an open wound.

Deadlock didn’t seem mind though. At least, not visibly. His hand still clung to Rod’s wrist, and his grin was so wide it looked almost painful, even though it was genuine. “Hot Rod! I’m so glad you could make it down here!”

“Me too!” Rod felt something inside of him, a pit of dread and unspoken fear, melt away, though not completely as it still stuck to the insides of his stomach like claws. They began to walk, towards some unknown destination, as Rod hadn’t asked Starscream for directions. “I- I was so worried, that we wouldn’t see each other for a long time I mean. You’re just, I don’t know, really nice to be around?”

He’d said too much. He was being to forward. Deadlock would be freaked out by Rod’s words for sure. But he wasn’t. Instead he smiled back and laughed in a way that could only be described as fondly, a gentle hand on Rod’s shoulder. He felt his body shiver in response. The touch was so little, but so much.

“That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

Rod snorted. Deadlock reached for, and held his hand, fingers curling softly, shyly around Rod’s. Rod stuttered, flustered. Was he blushing? His ears must have been bright red as he cleared his throat. “S-so! Where did Starscream set us up?”

“Just a little burger place, or so he tells me,” Deadlock rolled his eyes. “Something tells me it’s going to be a lot more expensive-looking than I’m used to.”

Rod felt a small amount of guilt, and he looked down at his shoes in repressed shame. “You… probably hate the Autobots for that, huh?”

“Not really.” Deadlock’s answer surprised him; and his head shot back up, hope gripping his heart. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the whole distribution of wealth thing is fucked up. But that’s not really anything the police themselves can fix. That’s on the government.”

“But we… we are a militant country.” Rod didn’t want to make a point. He didn’t want to force Deadlock to defend the Autobots, when the rules they had made had messed his life up. But Rod couldn’t even do it himself, so what else, who else could he look to?

“That _is_ true,” Deadlock conceded, with a slight bob of his head. “But… well, my ex-boyfriend is the one who helped me realise that perhaps the people themselves aren’t to blame.

“I thought, when I was younger, that all adults were evil. I thought that anyone who didn’t dare step in to help me was cruel, and uncaring. But I realise now that they weren’t able to help me. They had no power. And I misunderstood. Because they did try, but I couldn’t see through those who were hurting me.”

 

He let go of Rod’s hand, shrugging weakly. “There was nothing anyone could do. What happened to me wasn’t my fault, but it wasn’t theirs either. They had no option to save me- it wasn’t like there were any laws about child abuse back then, and who was gonna step in when you live in Lower District Kaon? If you live there, there’s little you can do to save yourself. Let alone others.”

Rod gently moved them both onto a bench, overlooking the pavement and the road. He didn’t look directly at Deadlock. This felt private. Too private for the likes of him to interfere, too sudden to share without reason. “You said ‘back then’, but laws were instigated about that seven years ago. I thought you were my age?”

“I was once,” Deadlock laughed, looking up towards the sky. But it was forced. Hollow. _Tragic._ “I’m twenty one. I was in that situation until I was about thirteen. And even then… it’s not like I could do much to get out of it. I’d already been there too long. There was nothing I could do.”

Rod fell silent, staring at his hands as if they might suddenly be drenched in dirt and blood. He didn’t know the specifics of Deadlock’s troubles but… how many people had he not tried to help for the same reason? Not helping Blurr, despite his parents… disappearance? Ignored the troubles kids like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had because he didn’t think anyone would believe him? Was he not truly at fault? If he wasn’t, maybe it meant that he wasn’t as awful as people said. It could mean that the things his father said over the phone to Magnus when he thought Rod couldn’t hear weren’t true.

It could mean so much.

“I wanted to fix my past. But I didn’t realise I was supposed to move forwards to fix that.”

“Is that always the case?”

Deadlock looked at him, then made a soft noise in contemplation. “No… not always. I’m no psychologist but, I know that people deal with stuff differently.”

“Oh.”

Deadlock sighed, shrugged, and stood up before helping Rod to his feet. “Well, we should get moving. Continue the talk at the restaurant?”

Rod smiled. “Sounds good to me. I hope we won’t be late.”

“Not a chance. Starscream would give his jet to make sure it worked out.”

As promised, their seats were ready for them on arrival. They were escorted to the reserved area, near the back of the restaurant and close to the kitchen, and were informed on entry that Starscream had agreed to be the one billed for their food, much to Deadlock’s apparent delight. Rod figured he must not get to splurge much in the current state of affairs, with the trade issues with Earth and all.

Rod decided on a _special_ cheese burger. It boasted a strong flavour, with blue cheese and a rich blue energon sauce, which he assumed it wasn’t alcoholic; surely it would have said so on the menu. He also decided on _wedge chilli fries_. Hopeful that he’d be able to finish it- and it was for once - he didn’t feel as sick as usual.

He could see the rest of the restaurant for starters, but he knew he was hidden from the other patrons due to the booth structure, and it’s odd angle. The target on his back was hidden, and even if someone were to recognise him, they would surely recognise his Decepticon companion first. And they were afraid of him- as had been displayed back at the race. They’d leave Rod alone.

He was safe. The realisation stilled the ever lasting churn of his stomach, as Deadlock decided on hot wings, a fillet steak, and a side of chips. They both decided to just have water for drinks, and Deadlock turned to Rod with a wide smile on his face.

Rod felt strange. Something about Deadlock’s eyes didn’t quite reflect the passion of his smile, as if happiness wasn’t quite what he felt. But he wasn’t indicating boredom, or annoyance. So Rod dismissed it.

As best he could, anyway.

“So,” Deadlock cleared his throat. “About our earlier conversation, about the Autobots. What do you think? Or, rather, who do you agree with?”

“Aren’t those questions very different?”

The question made Deadlock pause for a moment, eyes wide. He looked around for a moment before speaking again, voice lowered. “I don’t think so. In this world, like you said last time, don’t you think it’s too tight to be able to not choose a side?”

“I guess?” Rod huffed softly. “If I had to choose I… I wouldn’t choose the Autobots.”

“You wouldn’t?”

Rod found himself asking the same question. It was such a fucked up situation, that he wouldn’t even give thought to choosing the side he was supposed to be so loyal to. But he couldn’t. Not with how they treated him. Was that so wrong?

“No, I don’t think so,” he begun, thinking as he spoke. “I didn’t want to choose any side, but so far no one, nothing, tells me I should stay. They all hate me, they don’t want me around.”

He remembered the times he had heard Magnus tell Jazz he ‘wasn’t right’. He remembered the way Bee seemed to feel sick around him. He remembered the hurtful way Blurr had been acting around him lately. How Optimus spoke for him, his mother and teachers insisting he needed to work harder, Springer barely giving him a single touch for months. He just wanted someone to pay attention to him. To not act like he would always disappointing them, like he was disgusting.

Rod sniffled, and wiped away the tears on his face. He hadn’t even realised he’d started crying.

Deadlock gently took his hand. “You’re not disgusting. And you’re not a disappointment.” Rod blushed. Had he said that all out loud? What if Deadlock hated him now? What if someone else had heard? Deadlock’s thumb began to rub soothingly across Rod’s palm, and he spoke gently, cautiously. “You don’t need to push yourself, not anymore. You don’t have to try and impress them.”

“I don’t? But- but I live with them! They’ll get mad, they’ll hate me more, they’ll…”

“They have no jurisdiction over your life choices.” Deadlock stated it with unbelievable certainty. He handed Rod a napkin from the table for him to clean himself up with. “For real, it’s none of their business what you end up doing.”

“But I don’t want to do… other stuff,” Rod intentionally changed his wording, if only for the deniable plausibility for the waiter who had just brought their food. “I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“So find something you are good at?” Deadlock shrugged, already digging into the wings. “I mean, you don’t have to do the stuff I do. You could be like Soundwave.”

He perked up at the familiar name. “Soundwave?”

“Secretary. Works in accounting, I see him now and then cause I work mostly as a frontier guard, or racer.”

“What does Dragstrip do?”

“You know her?” He laughed. “She works with her dad. She’s an intel runner.”

“Intel runner? What does that do?”

Deadlock took in a breath, then stopped. He started poking at the chips with messy fingers and a soft hum of contemplation. “Well, it depends. Sometimes it can mean spying, it might mean transporting goods… all that kinda low-key stuff.”

Rod thought briefly. “How… how easy is it to get stuff into Iacon?”

“We have one guy. We don’t know what route he takes in or out, but he doesn’t ask for much payment and in fact finds it a hobby of his to see how much he can do at a time.”

“I… I could…”

“No,” Deadlock lifted a hand, speaking through his chips. “Iacon is for experienced runners only. You’d get Kaon and Helex jobs first, then if you were still able to do it, we’d let you run Iacon.”

It seemed easy. He didn’t really want to do it, but it was good to know he had options. Even if he was terrified of the possibility. “And the pay?”

“Depends on how well you do your job,” Deadlock snorted, nudging Rod’s chilli fries towards him, trying to get him to eat. “When I started I was paid minimum, which is about… Six thousand shanix a job?”

“Less than minimum wage,” Rod pointed out, but Deadlock snorted.

“Yeah but you get like seven jobs a time. They give you a few delivery jobs, then tell you at the end of it to just hang around an area and pick up on what you can. It’s on a randomised rotation so no one catches on who is or isn't just a kid or works for us.”

“Does your boss work all this out?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Deadlock tilted his head, digging into steak. “Shockwave is certainly waaaay too busy for that, so I guess it probably fell to Soundwave.”

Rod snorted, finally starting on his own food. “Sounds like everything falls to Soundwave.”

Deadlock laughed. “No, but he is always busy. Two kids and all, single parent. And people get mad at him sometimes cause he doesn’t speak,”

“Nonverbal?”

“I don’t know the details,” Deadlock shrugged. “I know he used to talk? Something to do with the death his ex-wife. But that’s all the gossip I have, so what’s it like on the Autobot end?”

“A lot messier. HQ’s seem to work on their own terms, but everyone tries to aim for their own idealisation of the whole Autobot ideal- what they think it stands for rather than a singular path. The guys up in Iacon certainly seem to have their own agenda,” Rod sighed, moving onto his burger. “It’s hard for me to say much, cause I’m not really that deep into it. You’d have to ask Optimus or Jazz for something more detailed.”

Deadlock stared with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t expected it, but snorted before Rod could begin to worry. “Hot Rod, I told you I’m not an intel runner anymore. I don’t want to know about them, I want to know about you.”

“O-oh,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “Well I mean it’s just… I don’t know. I just don’t agree with a lot of the rules, and Blurr seemed really upset and afraid over being threatened.”

“Threatened?”

“Yeah,” Rod sucked the remains of the sauce off his finger tips. “Basically, when they found out about his actions at the race, they threatened to kick him out of the academy, and prevent him from ever getting a job in the higher forms of the force.”

Deadlock whistled, cutting into his steak. “Well, I believed he had something coming but isn’t that harsh?”

“I know!” Rod groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Like, it could decimate his entire career plan, and Primus knows what his landlord would do!”

The pudding menus came out, and Deadlock made a noise of contemplation as his eyes ran over the list. “No idea how they think that’s a good way to get people to listen to them. It just makes people scared to. I’ll have the raspberry sorbet please?”

“Strawberry ice cream for me,” Rod nervously waited for the waiter to leave, scared to give too much context on what Deadlock had said. “But scaring people is what they think is efficient. And it works, so they don’t stop.”

“But your friends find sneakier ways to get around it,” Deadlock tilted his head. “Do they not realise they’re scaring them away?”

“I don’t think so,” Rod sighed. “I think they’re just… under the impression it works.”

They fell into a sad sort of silence. Rod chewed slowly, savouring the taste for once, even if the flavour was poisoned by the heaviness of the conversation. The burger seemed too thick for his tastebuds, but he managed to swallow it none the less. Deadlock began finishing up his steak, slowly, seemingly in deep thought. So much so that he’d cut through onto the plate, and still hadn’t moved. Rod didn’t know what to think. He hadn’t for a long time, but now everything seemed so oddly clear, yet complicated. He couldn’t understand all the nuances.Deadlock spoke up, lifting the last bite of steak to his lips. “They’re just kids. I thought they’d be better off for being Autobots.”

Rod nodded slowly, thanking the waiter when their deserts came out. “And I thought it’d be easier with no rules.”

Deadlock laughed. It was quiet, and almost nervous, but it was still a laugh. “Guess we were both a little misguided then, huh?”

Rod smiled back. “I just wish there was middle ground for us to walk on.”

Deadlock shrugged, poking the sorbet with his spoon. “Maybe. Maybe one day, when people are more willing to listen. When people like Sentinel aren’t in charge, and when fear isn’t what drives peoples votes.”

“I don’t think that world ever existed.”

“No,” He agreed, popping a spoon of sorbet into his mouth. “But it’d be nice if it will.”

Dessert went fast, and conversation turned mundane. Rod managed to eat every last bite of food, and the look on Deadlock’s face implied he felt proud for him doing so. It was odd, but it made Rod feel warm inside. 

With the promise that Starscream was paying, they left at a leisurely pace, but before they reached the station, Deadlock gently took his hand.

“Listen,” he started, “I know you probably hate the public transport system. I can give you a lift back.”

Rod’s eyes widened. He could have cried, and he certainly felt his eyes grow wet as he embraced Deadlock close.

“T-thank you! I- you don’t have to- I- I just!”

“I know,” he whispered, holding Rod close. “It’s alright, I’m glad to take you home.”

Rod breathed in Deadlock’s scent, focusing on the smell of smoke he always seemed to carry with him. He spoke once more.

“I… I just have one request.”

“What is it?”

“Drop me a few streets off. I don’t want Optimus to see you. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Deadlock was quiet, and for a few seconds Rod thought he might decline. But then he nodded against the top of Rod’s head.

“Alright. If that’s what you want.”


	14. Day 9, 1st Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh Magnus.

Rod had been reading through his next year math syllabus when Optimus texted him, requesting his presence at Upper District Tarn HQ. It wasn’t much of a train ride away, though the trains tended to set Rod off in ways he could never anticipate. But the alternative was walking. And he doubted Optimus wanted him taking over an hour to get there. Which is why for the second time this season, Rod found himself standing outside the Tarn HQ, after twenty minutes of staring out the train window, listening to the squeak of the ever turning pole that stood by the stairs off the pavement. He’d never asked what it was. He hadn’t seen it in front of any other HQ’s, so he assumed it must have been an old thing that they’d forgotten to remove. 

He opened the door, and Cliffjumper welcomed him with a smile, though it quickly vanished upon recognising him.“Oh, Rodimus,” he waved. Rod flinched. “It’s good to see you again.” No it wasn’t. “How have you been?”

“Oh,” Rod shrugged. “You know.”

“No?”

The door behind them flung open, and Rod turned to see Dragstrip enter with someone else in tow. She walked with confidence, head held high and an air of distain for her surroundings. Rod immediately stepped out of the way, allowing her to make her way to Cliffjumper’s desk. Given his expression, he knew what they were there for.

“Dragstrip, Breakdown,” he nodded. “Which of your brothers is it this time?”

“Wildrider. Something about trespassing, breaking and entering,” she sighed, apparently resigned to this. “I’m more inclined to believe that, yet again, he thought something would be fun, and then forgot where he was.”

“Like last time, eh?” Cliffjumper grimaced, and turned to his computer. “I’ll find him for you. Do you mind waiting, Roddie?”

“Not at all.” H e shook his head, lifting his arms in a mixture of defence and surrender. Dragstrip’s situation seemed a lot more serious than his, but his main reason for allowing them to go first was anything that delayed his meeting with Optimus, and allowed him time to cover his bases with excuses, was a Primus-sent gift.

Although, the way Breakdown stared at him was certainly an incentive to him not objecting to them going before him. 

He seemed to stare at everything similarly- as if he thought it might attack him, like it hid some secret, like it was a threat. He clung to Dragstrip’s arm, and kept his skin covered the best he could with his trench coat. Rod thought about what Starscream had said about the differences between people who lived higher in society. People who were worse off were more accustomed to mental illness.

He wondered what that meant for people like Breakdown.

And people like him.

“You alright?” Cliffjumper stopped typing, and paused for a moment, leaning around Dragstrip to look at Breakdown. “You seem… off.”

“I know they’re watching me,” Breakdown replied, hissing his answer through his teeth. “You have cameras everywhere- they’re recording me.”

Cliff laughed, albeit awkwardly. “Well, yeah, it’s a matter of security, isn’t it?”

Breakdown growled, a low rattling noise in the back of his throat, though he was quickly hushed by Dragstrip. He glared at Cliffjumper, his gloved hands digging into his sisters arm as he hissed. “I don’t mean _you.”_

The way Breakdown spoke sent a shot of fear through Rod, and he found himself looking around the room in the same manner. Cliffjumper snorted and turned back to the computer, but Rod couldn’t figure out why. It was unsettling. The cameras, he was used to. The idea of someone unknown watching, he was not. Dragstrip gently took him and Breakdown close, holding them both against her chest and whispered to them both.

“Listen,” she shushed, and Rod felt like he was intruding somehow. People didn’t do that stuff, people weren’t so close, so familiar. “You’re both safe here, and I will protect you. Even you,” she sent Rod a small smile, and he grew flustered under it. “I promise you both, no matter who is watching, they cannot hurt you from behind a camera.”

She kissed Breakdown’s forehead, who huffed- but calmed as she backed off and let them both go. Rod picked at the skin of his nails, though he too felt softened by her words. But wasn’t it wrong to feel comforted by a Decepticon? Which he so certainly knew she was, from Deadlock’s information.

“Well, I’ve found Wildrider for you both,” Cliff interrupted, turning back from his screen. “He’s in the cells; do you want an escort or do you recall where it is?”

“I’ve been here enough times.” Dragstrip waved him off, going through the double doors on the right, headed towards the cell basement. Rod watched her leave, still touched by her kind words. Her touch had not been the same as Deadlock’s, but it was similar.

He wanted more.

“Right. Rodimus, your dad is upstairs- in his office. He’s waiting for you there.”

“Right. Ok.” Rod said, distantly, unsure. Walking, he felt like he wasn’t there, like it was a dream. Or a nightmare.

He heard the siblings talking as they walked down the stairs to the holding cells, and he went up to Optimus’ office. Each step was a weight. And it hurt.

The top of the stairs had him overlooking his path, and the one friendly hallway was painful. The blue, once calming, felt like the ocean, threatening to swallow him up; promising to take him away from his family, from his home. What did Optimus know? Why did he call Rodimus here? Was this about the race, or was it about Starscream? What if he knew about the date? 

_“You are both safe here,”_ whispered Dragstrip’s voice. She was downstairs. He had Starscream’s number. _“I will protect you.”_

She would. Rodimus had no doubt in his mind she was going to help him. And with a shaky, unsure breath, he opened the door to Optimus’ office.

Somehow, it was less powerful, less dramatic, than he felt it would be. But inside the room, he felt his stomach drop with a weight he hadn’t expected and he almost vomited from the shock of that alone. Magnus, Jazz, and Optimus sat waiting for him. He half felt like someone was about to to jump him, drag him down to the cells. Rod closed the door behind him, and the three of them looked between themselves for a moment,and Jazz gave Rodimus an apprehensive look before Optimus stepped forwards, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Rodimus…” he started, though he seemed unsure, as if he had no idea what to actually say. “We wanted to… notify you, of a few things we feel we haven’t been clear on.”

The room fell silent, and Rod begged the universe for a reason to run, to flee. He didn’t want this conversation, he knew what it meant. He didn’t want to listen. But he nodded. When he didn’t say anything to indicate hostility, Jazz spoke up with a type of certainty Optimus didn’t have.

“We’re sure you’ve spoken to Blurr about what happened to him,” Jazz winced at his own words, as if he was aware how poorly it came out. Rod fisted a part of his jacket, and Jazz hissed through his teeth at the action, but continued, trying to find a more peaceful approach “And we… wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand,”

“We had to step in, we have to ensure that the Decepticon’s don’t hurt our people, like Blurr.” Our people. As if Decepticon’s weren’t? Were they not Cybertronians, like the rest of them? 

No, Rod supposed not. Not in the Autobots minds.

“They are dangerous,” Magnus insisted, his hand placing itself on the desk, allowing him to lean forwards. His voice was loud, booming. Rod cowered. “They cannot be trusted, and we have taken measures to protect you before, as well you know. We are not against removing Decepticons, or suspected Decepticons, such as Starscream, from your life.”

“We are not trying to control you,” Optimus pleaded in a low voice, hands outstretched for Rodimus- either to hold him close or stop him running. But Rod knew the truth of his words. They didn’t trust him, they knew something. But what? Bee hadn’t told them about Starscream, Magnus would have thrown a fit if he did. “But we want you safe, and if you can’t take measures to protect yourself, as your guardian- as your _father_ , I must.”

Rod had never heard Optimus call himself such, unless at meetings with teachers. Rod’s hands went to his chest, and he fought the urge to back away from Optimus’ own outstretched ones. 

“We need to know, Rodimus,” Jazz spoke softly, as though trying not to startle him. “Are you alright? We have… reason to believe that you might be doing something dangerous.”

“Oh, just be frank with him,” Magnus snapped, and Jazz quickly tried to pull him back and calm him down, while Optimus tried to hush him. “Rodimus, we know what you’ve been doing. We know you’ve found someone willing to sell drugs to you- and we demand that you stop this instant!”

Rod gaped, and Jazz and Optimus didn’t object Magnus’ claims. The lack of support, the accusation, sent a burst of dangerous fire through his veins. His fists clenched, and he snapped. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“Rodimus!”

“Are you fucking for real!?” He didn’t stop, though he wanted to. He was making things worse, he just knew it. He should run, run away, somewhere safe.

Dragstrip might still be downstairs.

“Rodimus,” Optimus almost pleaded. Almost. His pride wouldn’t allow him to beg, Rod knew that. “We don’t know for sure, but the way you’ve been acting, the fact you followed Blurr, we… we don’t know how to treat this!”

“Treat?” Like it was some kind of festering wound in their oh-so-perfect Autobot ideology. Like he was a disease. Rod began to back away despite knowing he shouldn’t. But they were scaring him. They were going to hurt him. 

“It’s not…” Jazz started again, sending Magnus an accusatory glare. “It’s not like that, we don’t want to… we don’t want you to do something you might regret later. If it’s not drugs, what is it?”

“It’s none of your business!” He felt his back hit the door. 

“It _is_ my business!” Optimus yelled back, standing up. “If you’re not guilty why do you act like it? I am your father, should I not know if something is wrong?”

“Why do you care?! You’ve never cared before!” Rod knew he was getting too brazen, and forced himself to quiet down. He couldn’t stand this, being treated like a criminal, being treated like he was something wrong! His hand grasped behind him for the door handle.

“Of course I care!”

Rod wanted to tell the truth. He wanted to tell Optimus that he felt terrible all the time, that he felt sick, that he was scared. He wanted to admit he felt like he didn’t belong, that he wanted to leave. But he didn’t want to be accused anymore. He was tired of defending himself, and he was tired of Optimus not listening to him.

“I- I think we’re all getting a little too wound up,” Jazz’s attempts of salvaging the situation were appreciated, even if they were futile, as Rod managed to open the door. Jazz winced, and sent a peculiar, angry look towards Magnus, as if to tell him this was his fault.“Let’s all back off a sec, get ourselves rational again.”

“Rodimus,” Optimus took in a deep breath, apparently ignoring Jazz’s advice as Rod stepped out of the room. “Is… is there anything you want to tell me?”

Rod thought about Starscream. He thought about Thundercracker, about Skywarp. He thought about Dragstrip. He thought about how caring they were, how much more they understood him. He thought about Blurr, about how the Autobots had treated him. He thought about the Academy. He thought about everything.

He thought about Deadlock.

“No.”

He slammed the door behind him.


	15. Day 5, 2nd Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blurr has some news for us.

It was still too cold to be outside. The ice had yet to melt from the bark of the trees, but the snow had long since faded from the branches since winter was over. It felt too soon to return here. But then it always did.

His fingertips brushed over the frost, watching it melt under his touch. For a moment he imagined his body bursting into flames, becoming the destroyer he knew himself to be, tearing through frost and burning into the tree until all that remained was ashes. He imagined screaming, hot breath escaping through his lips and teeth, eyes wild. He thought of how the power would feel.

“Roddie~!”

Rod almost snarled at the voice, just barely swallowing it. He turned to see Blurr running towards him, excited. Rod forced himself to smile. “Roddie I’ve got free time again! We can finally hang out properly!”

“That’s… great, Blurr. Wonderful even,” Rod lied, suppressing all the comments on how Rod had always been available during his free time, during the winter holiday, during the Shielding, and how he knew Blurr had free time and simply wasn't spending it with him. But it didn’t matter. Blurr would only get upset anyway. “What did you wanna talk about?”

Blurr shrugged, but pulled his jacket a little tighter to cover his chest. Out of guilt maybe? Rod hoped so. “A couple of things- but don’t you want to talk inside? It’s still kinda cold out here.”

“I’m fine.” Maybe it was a tad bitter of him to say that, but it worked well enough. Blurr didn’t seem to care too much either way.

“Alright,” he leaned against the tree, while Rod placed his jacket down to sit. “I wanted to know how you were doing, mostly. I’ve hear that you’ve been in a spot of trouble.”

“It’s nothing,” He didn’t want to talk that much. “Everyone’s making a big deal of it. It’s not much different than usual.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.” Blurr gently placed his hand on Rod’s shoulder. “Listen, Roddie, you know that you can talk to me, right? I know I haven’t been… the best friend recently. In fact I’ve been pretty shit. But you know I’m still here for you- I don’t mean to be that way.”

“I know.”

“I mean it Rod. Please don’t brush me off. It’s really rough for you, I know that now. I didn’t mean to get you in so much trouble, I- I thought you…”

“What, that I was exempt?”

Blurr flinched, but to his credit, he nodded, admitting his mistake. “I… I thought wrong. I know that now. And Bee… well, I don’t know how clear he is on the subject but I- I think he knows now, too.”

He took in a deep breath. “We should have realised sooner. We should have helped you, we were wrong, and we just- Didn’t want to admit it. I’ve been cruel to you Rod. And I. I’m sorry.”

Rod held back tears. He didn’t dare speak, knowing that even opening his mouth would permit the tears to roll down his cheeks. He pulled his sleeves over the palms of his hands and covered his face. Blurr continued.

“We should have helped you. _I_ should have helped you. But- but that’s gonna change, ok? We’re going to help you more. I’ve been talking to the seekers, Starscream and the others, and we wanted to all get together at his house. So we can talk. Nothing else- just talk. You- you need someone, someone you can trust. And I haven’t been that person.”

Rod hiccuped, and felt the tears begin. He tried to hold them back, but instead found Blurr’s hands on his back, and his face buried into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry Roddie,” Blurr whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did!” He couldn’t help it. He needed to say something, anything. “It hurt- it hurt so bad, you left me alone for months, you didn’t talk to me and I thought- I thought you were going to hate me, like everyone else! I thought you were punishing me, and I know I’ve done a lot wrong but- but I didn’t know which one it was and, I- I’m sorry!”

Blurr hushed him, though Rod could hear the sadness in his own voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Roddie. You haven't done anything wrong. I promise.”

Somehow even that stung. But in a good way, like pulling out a splinter. He sobbed into Blurr’s shoulder, fingers clinging to the blue fabric of his jacket. Rod hiccupped again, and Blurr hugged him closer.

“It’s not your fault that I was cruel to you. It’s not your fault if… things are happening at home. Just know I’m here now, and I’m gonna be here for you. I’m not gonna push, but know that I will support you. I won’t abandon you again. I won’t leave. Not for a long time.”

For a while after, they were both silent. Huddled in each other’s arms, concealed from the world by the trunk of the tree. Rod felt better for crying. He felt better for having Blurr here, for having Blurr understand.

Somehow, Deadlock seemed like the catalyst for this. How him saving Rod at the race, taking him out with the Seekers, had given him such good luck. Given him friends, closure. Safety.

Love.

“Do you wanna go talk to Starscream? He’s in the library right now, we can tell him you’re good to come. Discuss details, you know?”

Rod felt the good mood slip from him, and he shook his head. “There’s no point. Optimus won’t let me go to his house.”

Blurr seemed to freeze, eyes wide and lips open in an almost perfect ‘o’ before speaking slowly. “If we both tell him you’re staying at mine, will he have any way of knowing?”

Blurr was offering to cover for him. Blurr was offering to help. Rod could have laughed, it seemed to have been an age since he’d done such a thing. “No. No he wouldn’t.”

“Then we’ll say you were at mine.”

“What if he calls the home phone?”

“We didn’t hear it- we were playing music to help us concentrate.”

“What were we studying?”

“I was helping you with what you’ll be covering this year. You were reading ahead and you wanted some quick advice.”

“Can we cover some of it to make it more believable?”

Blurr pulled back, holding his hands tight with a reassuring smile. “Of course. Starscream I’m sure can help too.”

Rod smiled back. “Thank you.”

He felt something warm in his chest. Hope, maybe. That he wouldn’t have to stay under Optimus’ thumb forever. He wouldn’t have to obey every word out of fear. He had support now. Blurr was willing to help, even if Bee wasn't.

The two stayed for a moment, with each other in their arms, dwelling on their life choices. What they were signing up for, before Blurr stood and helped Rod to his feet from the now wet grass. He nodded at him with a smile of confidence, and they began walking across the campus towards the library, hands held tight as frost crunched under their shoes, and wind slipped between their jackets.

The library was in the centre of the sciences area, so it was a common area for the Seekers to study during breaks. Rod felt nervous about talking to Starscream in public, but a library was a library- a public space, where people went to ask others for help. And Blurr was with him.

The actual building itself was old. Made of metal, some suspected it was as old as the Quintesson rule- not that Rod knew much about it. But it had held up for over two hundred years if it was, which was certainly impressive. The inside was rather tidy- walls with a honeycomb build, and the floor had recently added a carpet due to complaints about footsteps on the tiled floor. Though it certainly helped the heating stay in. Which is why many other students were snuggled together at the downstairs table. 

Though as they climbed the stairs, Blurr waved the group down on the second floor of the place through the glass window that suited to once be a viewing area, seated around a wooden table. Skywarp sat atop it, chewing bubblegum, while Starscream read a book on advanced astrophysics across from him, and Thundercracker typed away at his laptop nearer the corner of the room.

While Skywarp waved, Starscream was the one to speak. “Ah, Hot Rod! So you and Blurr…?”

“We’ve made up, yeah.” Rod and Blurr shared a smile, before facing the trio again. “So are we on for tonight?”

“Obviously!” Skywarp hopped off the table, ignoring the hushes he got in response, lounging over Thundercracker’s shoulders. “We’re ordering out! Knockout’s gonna be there, and Screamer says that he’s willing to help you out with your style problem!”

“Hot Rod doesn’t have a style problem,” Thundercracker muttered, tugging on Skywarp’s ponytail without looking up from his computer. “Knockout’s just pretentious.”

“Knockout used to work in Praxus.” Starscream slammed his book shut and leaned over the table, only to gently tap the other two seekers on the forehead.

“Like I said, pretentious.”

The group laughed together, and Rod pulled up a chair. “So, what’s the takeaway?”

“We’re gonna go over after the Academy day is over,” Thundercracker told them, and the other two Seekers nodded. “Unless either of you have something to do?”

“We both have archery.” Blurr filled in for Rod, who he had noticed was still a little nervous to speak up. Rod smiled in appreciation. Starscream nodded understandingly.

“Understandable. We’ll hang around doing stuff in the science labs or whatever, until you guys come find us.”

“You just wanna see your boyfriend~!” Skywarp teased, dodging the book Starscream threw at him. 

“He’s my partner!” The lead Seeker hissed, though Rod saw the tips of his ears turn red. “He’s just one of the few people who can keep up with me, that’s all.”

Skywarp and Thundercracker both gave him a long suffering look, and Starscream huffed, turning his nose up. Rod laughed at the childish antics of the three, before speaking up quietly.

“How did you all get in touch with one another anyway?”

“Weeeell,” Blurr giggled guiltily as he perched on the edge of the table. “We found out about the guy at the race, who fed you? He actually chased up on us; apparently he wanted to make sure you were okay. Starscream said he actually was super worried over you”

Rod hummed in surprise. Decepticons seemed to be just full of people who cared. “I didn’t think he’d be… that concerned. I mean- it’s been so long. Like, half a year now. He still called in about it.”

“‘He’, would be Full-tilt.” Starscream grinned. “And he’d been asking round about you for the entirety of that time, if what I’ve been hearing is right. He’s a lovely man, until you meet his aunt.”

Both Skywarp and Thundercracker shuddered. “Urgh,” Skyw arp moaned. “Trypticon.”

Rod squirmed in his seat, leaning in slightly. “Who’s Trypticon?”

He anticipated a vague response, like when he asked about Soundwave, but instead he got an explanation. “Used to be in the war, up on the Quintesson boarder? She was on the front lines, until she stopped being able to drive.”

Blurr made a soft noise of sympathy. “What happened?”

“Shell smashed down on her tank, so I hear,” Thundercracker said. “Now she’s in a wheelchair. Yells at you if you try to help.”

“It’s just post traumatic stress. She’s alive, at least.” Starscream sighed. “Unlike… a lot of people who fight the footsoilders.”

Skywarp leaned across the table, stage whispering. “She’s Full-tilt’s only living caregiver. His parents died in the brief Earth conflict.”

Rod’s eyes widened. “The one with the trial? What was the kid’s name, Wickey?”

“Witwicky,” Starscream piped up. “They never found him guilty, despite the accidents.”

“I heard that his dad bribed the court!” Skywarp glared when the others scoffed. “It’s true! Apparently he’s like your dad, Screamer! He’s huge in the electronic economy!”

“In Earth? Get real- he’d have to be from Junk to be that important.” Thundercracker rolled his eyes, shutting his laptop. 

“Not to Earth!”

Rod gently raised his hand, eyeing around to ensure it was ok for him to speak up. “I heard that the best team of mechanics refuse to work with Earth now because of it- it’s possible it was rigged if those guys are against even that.”

“It’s true,” Blurr nodded enthusiastically. “Apparently it was their boss who was the first death.”

Starscream nodded. “I did hear my dad complain about that. Even the Junkions can’t convince them. Who’d you hear it from?”

“I heard Prowl talking about it.” It seemed stupid now, admitting that he’d only overheard the conversation, but the others nodded, Skywarp particularly, with a noise of victory and pride. Once again, ignoring the frustrated hushes from the students downstairs.

“See! Even the Praxian thinks so!”

Thundercracker glared. “Well I heard Tarn HQ’s secretary is in a bit of to-do about a fling with the Constructicons.”

Rod was going to question the name, when Blurr interrupted. “No way! I’ve been around his house;the guy’s spotless.”

“But…” Rod leaned forwards, lowering his voice. He felt weird gossiping like this, but somehow it felt normal. Like he really had friends. “Isn’t it weird that someone as perfect as Prowl isn’t in Iacon?”

For gossip, the reaction was quite serious. Blurr and Skywarp gasped, Starscream dropped his book, and Thundercracker’s jaw dropped. The leader of the trine slowly composed himself, looking around as if they’d get into trouble for speaking about it. Rod felt a small swell of pride, for apparently coming up with something so important.

“It… that is odd, yeah,” He gestured to Blurr. “You said he had a perfect record? Plus, Iacon is known for taking in Praxian’s. They love that ready to please personality they all seem to have. Why’d they reject him?”

“Oh ask Breakdown,” Skywarp scoffed, seemingly over the dramatic realisation. “You know he’ll have the records. And that fling rumour only started after the Earth conflict.”

Rod tilted his head. “How would Breakdown get records? Those tend to be Autobot only, right? Isn’t his dad like, super Decepticon?”

“Well so are we,” Starscream snorted, beginning to pack his notes and books away as the bell rang. “You don’t see us getting kicked out the Academy. Talking of, it’s almost time for classes again. Meet at the Academy station when clubs are over?”

There was a brief consensus, as both Blurr and Rod had archery for the afternoon. Rod didn’t know what the Seekers did, but the train ride to Tesarus would be pretty long. They’d have the time to talk.

Whatever the case may be. He couldn’t help but feel so much safer, knowing that for now he genuinely had more than two friends who cared about him.

And he couldn’t stop his brain from drifting to how proud Deadlock would be, when he told him on his next date.


	16. Day 5, 2nd Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream's house is very fancy.

The train ride was uneventful. No panic attacks, no fear of seeing people he knew who would call him out on his company, and Blurr right beside him, Rod found himself feeling quite at home with his new friends. A part of his brain whispered that he was abandoning Bumblebee, that the lie he had told his dad would only make things worse, that it wouldn’t last, but he fought against it. He was happy. Right now, he was happy. And he wanted to stay that way.

Starscream’s house was unbelievably huge. Houses in Tesarus were always fancy, but Rodimus hadn’t seen structures like this, even in Iacon. It stood grand, pristine, and golden. Literally, actually golden. It was coated in what must have been a sparkling paint, or else gold itself, shining like the sun, and not a single chip on its coat, impossibly well maintained. His eyes followed swirling white stone pillars to a balcony on the fourth floor with thin red curtains blowing in the breeze out of Vosation windows- thin, decorated, and looking like a part of nature. 

Standing at it’s front door, Rod was somewhat intimidated.

Blurr was extremely impressed.

“Is that Quntesson inspired?”

Rod saw Thundercracker roll his eyes, and Skywarp hold back a snigger. Starscream nodded, chin held high and a smug smile on his lips. “Father took inspiration from the old depictions, and aimed to create a unique and outstanding masterpiece. He wanted it to stand large and regal against the houses around it. That’s why the gold is so polished.”

“Is it actual gold?” Rod reached out, running a hand over one of the pillars. It was cool to the touch, and the texture was definitely some sort of metal.

“No, no. Just imitation. But the crystal structures are real- we have a garden out back for it. We’re working on breeding out new colours for more prestige.”

Blurr whistled, Rod frowned. 

“Isn’t it… a bit much?”

“Oh absolutely,” Starscream laughed, pulling out his keys to unlock the large, polished ebony doors. “That’s the point! It’s meant to be too much. A statement of his power and abilities, dad says. To smile in the face of the people who thought they were above him. A sorta, ‘look what I can do now’, kinda thing.”

Rod didn’t get it. He looked around at all the decorative structures, embarrassed at his own naivety, but Thundercracker walked over to him from Starscream’s side, and grinned at him in response. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I don’t get it either.”

The confession helped Rod relax; the fact he wasn’t alone even now warmed him in ways he forgot he could feel. Skywarp gently nudged him forwards into the house, moving on ahead with the rest of the group while Rod caught up. Blurr and Starscream spoke excitedly about something he couldn’t hear over the sheer loudness of the house interior. It drew his focus, made him dizzy, but in a strange way that made him feel welcome.

The floors were a polished green marble, leading into a white ivory staircase, and a chandelier of glass and silver hanging from the centre of the ceiling. Golden light reflected off every surface as if everything visible had finely coated glitter decorating it. It was so colourful, so rich, so vibrant. It hurt his eyes.

He nearly jumped a solid foot in the air when a door slammed open, and someone with vibrant red- red, not ginger, red -hair and dark skin with patches of white sauntered in with the tails of a coat trailing behind them. Black fur puffed around the neck like a collar to a cape. It seemed too warm for the colours of the house- yet somehow fit in beautifully through the dark red against the green. Like bloodstone. Fitting in with the royal aesthetic of the rest of the house. 

“Starscream! I’ve been looking through your father’s wardrobe and I don’t understand!” they wailed dramatically, hand over their forehead. The newcomer flung himself into Starscream’s waiting arms as if fainting, Starscream’s red eyes already rolling, apparently used to this behaviour. “Why is it all so grey? It’s such a tiresome colour, he could at least have something more vibrant!”

“Hot Rod, Blurr, meet Knockout. He’s my personal designer.” Starscream turned, dropping the man on the floor unceremoniously.

“I’ll have you know I am famous, young man,” Knockout dusted himself off, a playful glare on his face. “I’ve worked in areas you’ll never even get to touch.”

“Didn’t Praxus hate you?”

Knockout made an offended scoff. “It was preposterous. They’re so up their own asses they think that any condition makes you less than human! They were so shocked about my vitiligo, but trying so hard to not say anything they could barely answer any of my questions!”

Rod looked to Thundercracker, who leaned in to whisper an explanation. “It’s his skin- you see how some parts are white though most of it is black?”

“I mean, I know I’m stunning but goodness!” Knockout groaned. “So who’s this little spark you’ve brought before me?”

Starscream grinned, pulling Rod forwards. “This is Hot Rod. He’s a newbie.”

“Hot Rod? Well, I can see why such a name came from a creature such as yourself.” His eyelashes fluttered and Skywarp scoffed.

“Stop flirting,” he gave Knockout a shove. “You’re already taken.”

Knockout sighed, dreamily. “Ah, this is true. How lucky I was to land such a stunner as he is. He’s absolutely perfect you know? It’s such a tragedy that he sleeps like a fairytale.”

Starscream laughed, but cleared his throat, and lowered his voice suddenly. The mood sobered, and Rod tensed at the feeling. “How… how is he?”

Knockout kept smiling, but the joy left his eyes. Rod looked to Skywarp and Thundercracker, but they merely shook their heads.

“He… ah, my sweet sleeping beauty, they don’t think he’s going to wake up. As his husband, I hope there’s even the slightest chance. But as a doctor…”

“I’m sorry. You wanna get back to fashion?”

He grinned, though it didn’t quite seem real despite his excellent acting, and he lead the group up the stairs. “Oh of course! Now, tell me about yourselves- both of you. There’s no point in creating an outfit for you if you can’t wear it every day!”

They reached Starscream’s room with minimal conversation. Rod expected it would be cleaner, but the floors were covered in papers and half read books. So much so he could barely see the carpet, as bright red as it was. The walls were covered by full bookcases, and posters of sci-fi movies that Rod only knew a few of. There was a desk, with an accompanying chair, but they seemed to be abandoned in preference of the enormous bed, and a few beanbags.

Skywarp threw himself onto the bed the instant he could, limbs splayed out. Though Thundercracker followed, and rearranged him back into a more space-efficient position. 

“Take your damn binder off, for Primus’ sake,” Starscream scoffed. “You’ll choke on your own breath.”

Skywarp moaned, but did as he was told. Though Rod was surprised to see Blurr panic.

“I-O-oh, oh, right.” He went red, and the seekers gave him confused looks. “S-sorry.” When Blurr didn’t elaborate, Rod stepped in quickly, waving down their attention, tilting his head towards his friend and pointing at his own chest.

Skywarp was the first one to catch on, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape before he flopped back down onto the bed. “Dude you should take yours off too.” 

Starscream was next, looking between Blurr and Skywarp, then nudging Thundercracker in the arm and Knockout in the shin. They stared at him, before catching on with the rest of them, and they followed Skywarp’s example. 

“Absolutely,” Knockout stated. “I know you wanna look your best, but you gotta act your best too.”

“Of course you don’t have to,” Thundercracker added. “But it’s better for your health, and you’re our friend too. We can get you a baggier shirt if you like?”

Blurr seemed surprised at the reactions, particularly when Starscream put a hand on his shoulder. “Just cause I boss ‘Warp around doesn’t mean you have to listen. But seriously, you run track. You need air more than ‘Warp needs to talk.”

Blurr smiled, and Rod offered his hand. Blurr accepted it, nodding to the seekers. And although Rod couldn’t see his face he knew it’d be relieved. “I- I’d like to take it off yeah. If you’ve got a shirt I can use…?”

Barely a second passed before TC threw his into Blurr’s face. They both snorted, and eventually they fell into helpless laughter.

Rod felt light. He had friends. And his friends liked each other and they were happy and supportive. This was good. It was nice and it was safe and-

The door slammed open. The room fell silent.

A man stood in the doorway, dominating the space. He stood tall with his well-tailored suit, a red tie tucked neatly away. His hair was styled in a way that indicated prestige, but not overtly. Brown, styled, but not slicked back like his fathers. The very presence of the man was heavy, sucking away the feelings Rod had previously. Logic told him that he was safe, yet the dominating, commanding existence of the man in front of him said otherwise.

“Father,” Starscream spoke. “You’ve returned home.”

“Yes.”

Knockout scrambled to his feet, though more regally than Rod thought imaginable. His eyes were wide, and he gave a slight bow, as if the man was actual royalty.“Sir. I finished the work you prescribed me?”

“You may leave, Knockout.”

And he did. Very, very quickly. He ducked under nothing as he passed through the door, and as his heels clicked with his retreat Rod envied the man, and his intelligence to run from the situation before it escalated to dangerous levels. The tension was palpable, and Blurr’s hand seeked for his against his leg, before he found it and clenched around it.

“Who are the new visitors?”

Rod couldn’t move, he couldn’t talk. His mouth felt like it was full of ashes, but Starscream spoke where he could not. “Rodimus Pax, and Blurr Mare.”

“Pax?”

He knew. Rod’s pulse raced, his eyes bulged and he bit down on his lip. Whoever this was, he knew Rod wasn’t meant to be here. Rod was going to be obliterated. 

The man smiled, something between a snarl and a genuine smile, and his eyes glimmered with predator-like glee. He held out a hand, staring hungrily into Rod’s blue eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Rodimus,” he purred, and shaking, Rod took his hand. “I’m Starscream’s father. But you may call me Megatron.”

If he hadn’t felt like he was going to pass out before, he did now. He knew about Optimus’ hatred of Megatron. He’d heard him insist the man was hiding something, that he was the leader of the Decepticon activity that plagued their country, that his success story was convenient to cover up any accusations as ‘misguided prejudices’. He knew so much about the idea of this man but yet all he could think was…

“You’re Starscream’s father?”

Megatron blinked, then gave a genuine, hearty laugh. The tension vanished like the sun behind a cloud. “You wouldn’t think so would you? He takes after his mother.”

Rod couldn’t see many similarities between the two. Starscream’s jaw was more square, like his own, and he didn’t have the Nebulon eyes that his mother had, thought he couldn’t say they resembled Megatron’s either. But his thoughts were interrupted by a man appearing as if from the shadows behind Megatron. 

His face was concealed by a black biker helmet, with reflective glass to hide his face, and his left arm was a prosthetic in the shape of a claw rather than a hand. Not an inch of his skin was visible, covered instead by a light blueish purple biker jacket, a thick black glove on the one human hand, and leather trousers. If he looked close enough, Rod was pretty sure he could see a red light behind the visor.

“Sir.” 

His voice sounded guttural, and harsh, like it was trapped behind gravel and glass, but Megatron was unfazed and merely waved him off. He turned his head loftily, eyes half lidded.

“A moment, if you please. It would be quite impolite to not introduce myself to my guests.”

“I- I’ve heard so much about you!” Both Rod and Megatron turned to see Blurr, a flustered blush on his face and his arms held at chest level in barely contained excitement. “I-I heard you were so brave to defy the standards others set on you! And- and you became the most powerful man in Cybertron by working so hard and not giving in and! And- I- I’m sorry, sorry, you- you must be tired of hearing stuff like that, sorry.”

“Oh not at all,” Megatron turned his body to face Blurr, offering his hand as he had done to Rod, which was taken quite enthusiastically. “In fact I quite appreciate having my ego stroked.”

“Sir. If I may.” The other spoke again, quite insistently. And Megatron stood tall once more.

“Of course, our business should not be delayed. Though I must ask- Starscream?” 

Starscream perked up at the mention of his name, though Rod noticed he stood rather defensively in front of his two friends on the bed. Thundercracker took a similar stance in front of Skywarp, who cowered behind the two of them. “Yeah?”

“May I borrow you for a moment? I do so hate to take you from your friends, but we must talk.”

“Of course, father.” Starscream glared defiantly, teeth gritting together and fists clenched, despite his words, and Rod resisted the urge to beg him to just do as he was told. He knew that expression. He knew the need to fight back, and he knew that this isn’t what Starscream wanted. But he was scared. He didn’t want a fight to break out in front of him.

Not that he had to worry, as Starscream left without another word.

As the door shut, he spun around to the two on the bed, clinging to his own chest like his life depended on it. “What the fuck was that!?”

Skywarp hissed in air between his teeth. “Those two haaaate each other.”

Rod’s eyes widened, shocked, holding onto Blurr as he shivered against him. “What?”

“There’s always some kind of argument or animosity between them,” Thundercracker eyed the door, where muffled yelling could be heard. The atmosphere was heart pounding, low enough that Rod’s anxiety didn’t start, but high enough to terrify him. “We don’t know what it is but… they just really don’t get on.”

There was silence for a moment, as Skywarp hid his face in Thundercracker’s shoulder, and Blurr and Rod held each other close. But before another word could be spoken, the door opened. Megatron stood, his smile still on his face like it had been plastered in place. “Rodimus,” he spoke as if he was trying to soothe a child, and Rod bristled. “Perhaps you would care for a lift home? I do believe you live the furthest, as Blurr lives on Academy housing, and these two live close by.”

He wanted to say no. He really, really didn’t want to show up with evidence he hadn’t been at Blurr’s house, nor did he want to upset the seekers. But when he looked around the room, everyone mouthed the same thing.

_“Say yes.”_

So Rod smiled, swallowing his fear, ignoring the bile in his throat and the panicked churning of his stomach. “I- I’d appreciate that, thank you.”


	17. Day 5, 2nd Month of Winter, 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final gnar....

It was dark outside the limo.

The time being eight in the evening during mid spring was bound to be, and they were just now breaching the territory from Upper District Tesarus to Upper District Tarn.

Megatron’s car was as pretentious as his house- the polished gunmetal silver had gold accents and the engine purred like a tiger. Its resemblance to the creature ended with its sounds, but it reminded Rod when he had seen one once, when his mother had taken him to Iacon zoo. It growled with the same rumble he now felt in his body, and had looked so strange compared to the turbo foxes and cyber wolves so commonly seen in the wilds of Tarn gardens. It roared with the same ferocity as the limo when it accelerated, but with the tiger he’d gotten scared and cried, so Optimus had ‘roared’ back in ‘defence’ of his son.

These days he seemed to do the opposite. Perhaps he would ‘roar’ again on hearing the similar sound, for different reasons.

Rod dared a peek over the rim of the champagne glass he’d been handed, half empty with water, to look at Megatron himself. The man oozed confidence, and the red of his irises seemed to bubble over with barely-contained, ecstatic emotion. Rod hadn’t heard much about the man, aside from what Optimus had said, but nothing he had been told betrayed any reason as to why the two would be at each others necks just yet.

Or maybe it was just his dad being petty, not wanting to talk for whatever reason had driven them apart in the first place. Rod stared back into his glass, at his reflection in the water. The longer he stared, the longer the silence went on. The more he realised he knew nothing about what was going on. Maybe Megatron wanted to rekindle their friendship, or maybe he wanted something cruel.

“So, Rodimus,” Megatron remained perfectly still, like a statue, aside from his eyes rolling ominously in their sockets to fixate on Rod. It was unsettling to say the least, particularly when the ride had been silent until now. “I hear you’ve been struggling in school.”

Rod didn’t want to talk about it, but it would have been rude not to. It wasn’t like if Rod told him anything, Optimus would welcome Megatron long enough to find out about his troubles at school. He didn’t want to deal with that lecture. Again.

“I… I’m not doing well, no,” he admitted. “I don’t understand a lot of it. And I’m always falling behind, but I can’t really… do anything about it.”

“I would have thought you quite intelligent.”

“What, because of Optimus? Because of Elita?” he spat, voice dark. Only after speaking did he realise his mistake, feeling the flush and the shame rise in him for being so impolite he ducked his head away. “S-sorry, I didn’t meant to- to shout.”

Megatron chuckled. “It’s alright. I’m sure high expectations must get on you a bit. I know it did when I was younger. Optimus handled it better.”

“Optimus didn’t have a family history of perfection?”

Megatron frowned, and moved closer. “No, I suppose not. Do you not refer to your father as, well, your father?”

“He insists I shouldn’t,” Rod said, fighting the thoughts that he had forgotten while in the safety of his friends company. He didn’t want to think about how Optimus disliked being referred to as someone related to Rod. He didn’t want to think about the disdain. He didn’t want to think about being a failure. “He says I shouldn’t refer to him as someone higher, but he acts like he does, so I don’t know what he wants; if I should call him dad or Optimus, and then I…”

Megatron tilted his head. “Do you… think he doesn’t consider you his child?”

Rod flinched. It was apparently all the answer Megatron needed, as he sighed deeply, gently placing a hand on Rod’s shoulder.

“I knew your father when we were both younger,” he began, almost hesitantly. Although, it wasn’t as if someone like him could truly hesitate. “He was always quite stubborn. I can’t imagine he genuinely feels negatively about you, however… you do look very similar to a friend of ours.”

Rod let the information sink in, before speaking again. “Why would that be a problem?”

“Because he was murdered.”

Rod’s jaw dropped, and Megatron laughed. Rod withered under the unusual reaction, beginning to question the sanity of the man sat just opposite him, and his own safety.

“I’m sorry, your expression is just,” Megatron cleared his throat. “His name was Dion. He had hair just like yours. Once upon a time I would have thought him and Optimus were to marry one another.”

Rod’s eyes widened. “They were that close?”

Megatron nodded. “If not closer. I don’t think I’d ever understand the camaraderie those two held. But I know what we had, and I know why it fell apart.”

Rod wanted to ask. He really, really wanted to ask. But asking would be unbelievably impolite, so he asked something else. “Do you want to fix it?”

Megatron sighed, smiling. “I wouldn’t be the one to make changes if I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to say too much. You already seem quite set against your father for whatever reason. But I was not the one who alienated the other, nor did I punch him out at a funeral.”

“He punched you at a funeral?”

Megatron nodded, a hand drifting up to his left cheek as if the wound was still there. He stayed that way for a moment, eyes staring sadly out of the limo window. For a brief moment,Rod saw himself. Thinking on Optimus, watching the scenery pass. He wondered if Megatron was thinking the same as he did, before he turned back to Rod. “I don’t wish to make it sound as if your father was a bad person. But he was certainly… affected. By Dion’s death. I don’t blame him. However, it has ruined a good few relationships. Mostly ours, of course.”

Rod stared into his drink. Megatron was right on most accounts as far as Rod knew, but Optimus didn’t sound like a bad person because his old friend described him like one. Optimus sounded like a bad person because when he lost his temper he kicked at walls. Optimus sounded like a bad person because he refused to let Rod to see anyone he didn’t personally agree with. Optimus sounded like a bad person because Rod didn’t remember a day since his eight birthday that his father had said anything positive to him. Because he complained about Rod’s stupidity, because he insisted Rod was lazy. Because when Rod cried he told him he was being stupid and pathetic and needed to take criticism properly. As if anything Rod did, didn’t earn criticism. 

When they pulled up outside his house, Rod was fully prepared to run to his room, in hopes he wouldn’t be questioned, but a gentle hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so.

“Why Rodimus,” Megatron smiled, and suddenly Rod remembered all the things the seekers had said. About Megatron and Starscream not getting on. About how he should go along with what Megatron said.“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t escort you to your door?”

“I don’t mind!” Rod said, a bit too fast. “Really, you must be busy, running a international corporation and all, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already have! It was already so polite of you- gentlemanly even -to bring me home.”

Megatron chuckled. “You sound like a young maiden being seduced behind her fathers back. Relax, Rodimus Pax. Your father has no reason to be angry with me walking you to your door.”

Oh he had plenty of reason. For starters Rod had said he was at Blurr’s house. Plus, it was Megatron, whom Optimus hated. Despised, even. If there was one thing everyone knew about Optimus, it was his multiple attempts to get Megatron in jail. Also it was Rod. It was impossible for Optimus to not get mad when he was involved.

But he let Megatron walk him to the door anyway.

It felt like walking to his death. Megatron’s hand gently pressing the centre of his back, the lights flickering in the living room. The evidence that Optimus was waiting for him. But he had to face it. Maybe this time it’d be ok. Maybe this time Optimus wouldn’t lose his temper.

The door shot open. Rod winced, him and Megatron coming to a halt not a metre away from the door. Or, Optimus could have been waiting for him to come home.

“Megatron?! What are you doing here with- with my son?”

Nevermind.

“Ah, old friend,” Megatron grinned. Rod didn’t have to see his face to know that. “I found your young man wandering home from Iacon, and thought it best to ensure his safe return. Plus, who could resist visiting? After all, we haven’t seen each other for so long.”

Rod appreciated the lie, but wondered what it had cost Starscream to convince him to help. He must have. Why else would Megatron lie for him? He had no reason to protect him from Optimus.

“I only could have hoped it’d be longer,” Optimus glared at Megatron. He jerked his head, maintaining eye contact. “Rodimus. Inside.”

“Oh come now,” Megatron tutted, his fingertips pressing into Rod’s collarbone. Rod resisted the shudder that came with the touch. Too close, too personal. “You can’t still be bitter, can you?”

“I’ll be as bitter as I like. Now let go of my son.”

Rodimus shot forwards as soon as the grip left him, but Optimus’ soon replaced it, stopping him from retreating upstairs. “If I ever, ever see you again, it’ll be far too soon.”

“You’d see me less if you hadn’t banned our children from seeing one another.”

“Sounds counterintuitive.”

Rod thought the same, but didn’t want to pick sides. He wanted to get out of the way. When Optimus slammed the door shut, Rod prepared himself for the worst.

“How dare you,” Optimus hissed like he’d been stung. “You know Megatron is a threat to all things Autobot. He’s always been a threat, I thought I got this through to you if nothing else. You know what he’s like, I’ve told you, he’s a liar- a deceiver! How could you Rodimus? Why in the name of Primus did you get into his limo?”

Rod shrunk under the glare. “I- I…”

“For fuck’s sake Rodimus, are you serious?” He snapped, fists smashing into the wall. “Megatron. Megatron of all people- first you’re acting off in all your classes, then you start getting in with the wrong crowd, and then- the race! Don’t think I don’t know about that. He’s after you, I just know it. You- do you think you can get away with anything just because you’re my son? I could lose my job. We could all lose our jobs. He could- I’m tempted to arrest you, if it’d just keep you out of trouble for ten minutes! Keep you out of his dirty, lower Kaonite hands...”

Rod wanted to cry. But it’d make things worse.

“Primus, I could hit you!”

He raised his fist, as if to go through with the action, and Rod stuttered out something in a panic.

“I- I thought you’d rather-“ 

“I would have rather found you dead!!” Optimus screamed, and his hands slammed against the wall again, leaving a dent in the drywood.

Rod’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like the world had opened up to swallow him whole, like he was falling. He felt like everything clicked, but fell apart. He felt like his heart had been torn from his chest. 

But then something replaced it, something bubbling, hot and heavy. It filled his brain with smoke, and forced tears from his eyes. Something red, the feeling, filled his vision, cherry, cherry red. Blood like red.

Crimson bloodshed. Tinted windshields. Friendly eyes. Genuine smiles.

“Oh and there you go crying again!”

“AT LEAST I HAVE EMOTIONS!!” Rodimus snapped. His foot slid back, fingers curled, eyes wide. His pulse ran wild, and clarity rushed through him like a tidal wave. “At least I feel something! At least I’m trying to be a good person!”

Optimus seethed. “I don’t like your tone.”

“You don’t like anything I do!!” Spittle flew from his mouth. He panted desperately for air. “You don’t care about what I like! You don’t want to help you just want me to be Optimus junior! You don’t care about me at all! You don’t love me, you don’t think I’m your son, you just think I’m a disappointment! You want to get rid of me, I know it! Everyone knows it!”

Optimus scoffed. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I am a child!” Rodimus pointed accusingly. “I’m barely even eighteen! You’re acting like you think that I’m half of that! But you know what you are?! You’re a monster! You don’t care about your family, just your precious reputation! You’d have me locked away, killed maybe, if it wouldn’t make you look worse! You always want me to do the right thing, you want me to be like you, like Elita, like Magnus, but I can barely amount to one of you! Do you have any idea how much that hurts?! I’ll never meet your expectations! I’ll never amount to anything!”

He hiccuped, shaking violently as Optimus stared down at him with shocked eyes, pity, and some form of shame creeping in alongside it. Rod bristled.

“Don’t look at me like that! Everyone looks at me like that! As if they expect me to be perfect, and when I’m not they wonder if- if I’m even your kid! People always think I’m lazy but all I am is stupid! I don’t understand anything they talk about at school! I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know who I am, or- or even if I want to be anything! I want to die, dad!”

He broke down into sobs, hiding his face in his hands. “I want to die! I’m so tired! I’m so tired all the time and it hurts and there’s nothing I can do about it! I don’t want to be your kid anymore, it hurts, it hurts all the time, and I feel sick and tired and I don’t want to do anything, and nothing makes me happy, and food tastes too strong and I- I can’t, I just can’t… do anything!”

He gave Optimus one last desperate look. “And the worst thing is that you’ll never understand! You’re just so perfect, all the time! And people think I’ll be the same! But you’re not perfect! You’re always mad at me, you hate me! You want me dead more than I do!”

Optimus was shaking. Anger? Fear? Maybe something worse, Rod couldn’t tell. Maybe it was just his tears blinding him. “Oh, oh Primus, Roddie, Roddie I-“

“I have to go.” Rod interrupted, rushing past him. He avoided the hands reaching for him, stumbling up his room with a desperation he hadn’t felt for a while. 

“Rodimus, please!”

He slammed the door behind him, locking it before collapsing. He wailed. He wailed and sobbed and screamed until he was completely worn out. And then he moved again.

He grabbed some basic essentials of clothes, and shoved them in his bag. His laptop, his school work, and then stared at his phone.

Who could he call? Blurr would be forced to turn him in. Bee was no help. Starscream would be too busy and Springer…

Rod crossed Springer off his list. Too busy. Too…. Autobot. 

Autobot.

Rod’s eyes widened, and he frantically typed in a number. He would answer. He had to.

The phone only rang twice before he picked up. “Hello? Hot Rod?”

“Deadlock,” he sniffled. “Please, please I- I don’t know what to do, you- you have to get me out of here.”

“Whoa whoa, slow down,” Deadlock soothed the best he could. “What’s wrong? Are you in immediate danger? I can get someone else to pick you up and meet you halfway if you need to get out now?”

“N-no, no no, I- I don’t think so, just, please. Please get me out.”

“It’s ok, Roddie, it’s gonna be alright. Deep breaths, ok? Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“Please,” Rod begged. “Please just get here as fast as you can.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I’m on my way. I’m close by this time, I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise. I’ll be there. Hang in there, ok? I’ve got you, it’s gonna be alright. I’ll text when I arrive.”

Rod curled up on the floor. He held his bag close to his chest, stifling his sobs. Hoping every car that passed would be the one to collect him.

Was this the wrong choice, he wondered. Had he messed up by calling Deadlock, a Decepticon, to take him away?

Did it really matter?

In the end, it only took Deadlock half an hour. Rod slung his backpack on, and opened his window. He took one last look behind him, at his bed, the locked door, and the mess he’d left behind. And then he jumped.

He grabbed the drainpipe as he fell, cutting one of his hands. He bit his lip to hide his hiss of pain, but shimmied down the best he could. When he hit the grass, Rod ran. He leapt the fence, diving into Deadlock’s waiting arms.

“Hey, hey hey,” he whispered, holding Rod close to his chest. “Come on, come on, in the car.”

Rod got into the passenger seat, and Deadlock grabbed him the blanket from the backseat. Rod snuggled into it, and Deadlock whispered to him. “Are you alright?”

“Better now.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Rod hugged the blanket closer, letting his bag slip onto the floor.

“Away from here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a continuation of this. Stick around to find out what absolute SHIT Rod has gotten himself into!

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice to me this is a long thing and it's only gonna get longer.
> 
> Hey so, I'm currently in a bit of a state, and I don't expect anyone to but if you feel like donating...  
> https://ko-fi.com/A2139G9  
> It'd be very appreciated.


End file.
